


Snowfall

by hamsandwich



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anxiety, Battle, Captivity, Depression, Gen, Human Experimentation, Loss, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Near Death Experiences, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Panic, Post-Promised Day, Soldiers, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 99,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsandwich/pseuds/hamsandwich
Summary: When a letter arrives for newly appointed General Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye is the first to see it and this one is not your usual military business. The letter requests that Mustang be sent up North to a new Fort, built adjacent to Briggs, in order to strengthen the boarder between Amestris and Drachma. With a war seemingly on it's way, Riza Hawkeye takes her General's place to ensure his safety, but what seems like a simple mission soon spirals out of her control. Post-Promised Day.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Mei Chan | May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Rebecca Catalina & Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 250
Kudos: 167





	1. Plan

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic I've written in about 5 years, but I've been mulling this idea for about a year now and finally brewed up the courage to post it! So please, read and enjoy, and comment what you think!

Chapter 1: Plan

She trudged another step, knee deep in the white snow. Heat radiated from the tin canteen that was haphazardly stuffed with coals, despite it being the only way to keep warm it did burn skin through her worn out gloves. The wind whipped, stinging the scrapes and cuts on her face and it wailed so loudly in her ears, she thought she might go deaf. Riza pursed her lips and pulled the blanket more to cover her face, trying to hide herself from the blizzard and smearing the blood that stained her nose and lips. Her temple was bleeding again and her other injuries were flaring from the friction of her torn uniform. ‘What a mess this was’. She thought, ‘Maybe this is where I will die...No’. She couldn't accept that. Riza Hawkeye would not die here. She had always accepted a reality, knowing she could die in a uniform. But this was not about being a soldier, this was about survival. Riza Hawkeye would not die like this. The next step sunk her foot farther down into the white snow, the shifting weight sent a sharp pain from the bullet wound in her thigh, blood seeping through her patchwork of a bandage. The spasm forced her legs to collapse, bringing her face first into the snow with a grunt. Her body shook with shock and ache, then numbness. Riza’s body revolted against her, and refused to move further. ‘This is it...I am going to die.’ Tears brimmed at her eyes as she looked ahead and saw nothing but a wasteland, but she would not die. Riza Hawkeye would not die. 

Approximately 2 months before: Central Command Center

It was a busy day at Central Command and Mustang's team was hard at work, quietly consumed by a mountain of paperwork. Mustang sat at his desk and thumbed through a file of documents, Havoc and Breda tag teamed a stack of books related to their current investigation, Furey sat in the corner with four different radios attempting to connect them to one unit, Falman diligently copied information from one report to another, and Hawkeye was absorbed in organizing each file and all of their documents. It was quiet except for the flickering of paper and an occasional sigh from one of the troop. As she switched to working through an extensive pile of mail that had just come in from the head office, Riza paused at a large Manila envelope addressed to the newly appointed General Mustang. She flicked it open and pulled out a paper, there was no hesitation because as Mustang's personal assistant there was nothing that he saw that she didn't. As soon as she read the first line her stomach dropped. 

“General Mustang,  
Your transfer to the newly constructed Fort Windsor has been requested. Your departure will be assumed at the end of next week, your team will remain in Central to assume their regular duties. That is a final order. Below, you will find further instructions for departure...”

Hawkeye's breath hitched, fortunately unnoticed by the men in the room, she quickly composed her face as worry flooded her brain. She, nor any of the men would be able to follow him. ‘Of course they would ask Mustang oversee the newly established Fort in the North.’ she thought to herself.

The new Fort was set on the other side of a winter wasteland near The Northern Wall of Briggs, it was approximately an hour away, separated by a row of smaller mountains. They had been sending letters of transfer requests to soldiers at random mostly, bringing them up to the North. 

Hawkeye pondered for a long time, if she showed the General the letter, he'd go. His motive was always to impress Grumman and the others if he wanted to become Fuhrer in the future. And if she kept it hidden, Mustang would be reprimanded for failing to comply with a direct and final order. The North had been seeing some tension with Drachma approaching and surely the new Fort would be a target of attack. Hawkeye knew that Mustang should not go. She couldn’t protect him up there and they had come so far with the rehabilitation with Ishval. If he left now, they would fail to finish by their set deadline. 'What can I do? What can I do? Think Riza, Think.' 

"Lieutenant? Heyo, Lieutenant?" Havoc blinked with an expression caught between slightly confused and slightly amused. Hawkeye looked up, snapping out of her daze.

"Yes?"

"You okay? I called your name four times?" Havoc chuckled, and she realized that the confusion had caused all the men, including Mustang, to look at her. 

Hawkeye shook her head, "Yes, I apologize I was just...thinking of a new way to organize these documents is all. What did you need?"

Havoc grinned, his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, "Just needed that extra pencil next to ya?"

Hawkeye nodded and flipped the pencil across the room directly into Havoc's open hand. Mustang cleared his throat, "Lieutenant Hawkeye, are you sure you're alright?" 

‘Damn, Mustang never misses a thing.’ She thought, then faking a smile, "Of course, Sir. Perhaps I just need a bit of air?"

"Excused, Lieutenant. I’d say It's time for a break anyways." He flashed her that award winning smile of his.

The men all got up one by one, stretching and walking out, leaving Hawkeye alone with her superior. While the men created a distraction, she shoved the letter in the locked drawer on her desk before standing and striding towards the door. 

"Lieutenant?" Mustang stood, she was surprised to see a smile still on his face. "Are you going for a walk?"

Hawkeye nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Care for some company?"

The two walked through the halls, Mustang taking long strides, and Hawkeye always a single pace behind him. 

"Lieutenant?" Mustang looked behind his shoulder a bit. 

"Sir?"

They reached the courtyard, which was nearly vacant this brisk morning. They continued to walk but slowed to a relaxing pace, allowing them to now step side by side. "Anything on your mind?"

"No, Sir."

"That's a lie." The corners of Mustang's mouth pulled downward slightly.

Hawkeye kept a steady gaze. "I never lie, Sir." 

He sent a look towards her, eyebrow upturned at her statement. His hand raised to his chest in feigned shock, “You? Lie? Never!”

Riza shook her head, fighting to keep a smile from forming, having to turn from him once it broke free. He chuckled to himself. ‘It’s nice to see him loosen up.’ Riza thought. The last year had been rough after the Promised Day. Once he had regained his eyesight and restored Havoc’s spine to a working condition, Mustang and the team had set out on a mission to rebuild Ishval. While it had been mostly successful, there was still much to be done. The Colonel had been promoted to General now, but the nightmares continued. For both of them. Having to spend weeks in Ishval, off and on, to ensure its structure had resulted in swelling their guilt. For it did not matter what they were doing to resolve, that blood would stain them for eternity. However, they refused to complain and trudged onward. Riza sighed, ‘It’s why he can’t go North now, how could they tear him from his goals?’ The sound of her superior’s voice broke her derailed train of thought.

"Well, I would hope if there was something bothering you..." Mustang stopped walking abruptly. "...you would tell me, yes?"

"Of course."

They continued to walk and converse about common things, making their way back to the office after a while. Quietly, everyone began to resume their work, leaving Hawkeye to her thoughts. She pondered every way she could try and convince him not to go, or how to present to Grumman that Mustang was most needed here with his men. But she was intelligent and knew every way led to a dead end. As she thought, Riza began organizing her desk and accidentally dropped a paper from a random pile. It was an old request for leave that had never been completed. That's when the idea popped into her brain. She knew it wouldn't be easy, it could very well destroy everything she had worked for, but it had to be done. She knew what she had to do.

1 week later...

Hawkeye pulled her hood closer around her face so that she could remain more aloof as she sat in the back of the cargo truck. It was cold outside but the inside was stuffy as it was crammed with many soldiers. It was less of a transportation vehicle and more of a moving truck, no seats, no windows. They had pulled away from Central command about ten minutes ago and were started towards the train station to finish their journey up North. She just hoped her plan would work as much as it had already.

Riza mused a bit on how well her plan had worked so far, after all, it had not been easy for her to break the rules and especially when it came to lying to her Superior. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye would take General Roy Mustang’s place at Fort Windsor with his permission, however he would not know any of it. The easy part of the plan had been forging his signature on all documents, and even typing a ‘letter of recommendation’ with his signature on it and turning it in to the Transfer Department in the Head Office. 

Flashback...

“First Lieutenant?” An Officer called from the desk, stationed behind a cubicle wall. Riza rose from her seat in the nearly empty waiting area. The appointment had been purposefully chosen at a time of day in which the Head Office was slow, as to avoid more eyes and ears on the situation, the less that knew, the less someone would start asking questions. Her feet brought her around the cubicle wall to a desk, a single chair positioned in front of it. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant. I see you wanted to start the day bright and early.” Officer Henry Faye smiled, “Please have a seat.”

Hawkeye took a deep breath and smiled back, sitting with perfect posture. “I enjoy working early, Sir.”

“Me too.” Faye folded his hands on his desk, “What may I do for you today, Lieutenant?”

Hawkeye pulled a file from her bag, “I have a request for transfer and a letter of recommendation to do so from my Superior Officer.” She handed him the file calmly, although her insides began twisting into knots. One wrong move and the whole plan could blow up in her face. 

Faye began to read over the file, flicking through the papers and occasionally murmuring the words out loud. He scratched his head. “So, you want to transfer to Fort Windsor in his place? It is an interesting choice…though not entirely uncommon I suppose?” Riza nodded in response, he continued, “What desire do you have to go North?”

“Well, Sir, I do enjoy challenges and it would be a new change of pace. I wish to lend my skills and to test them as well, if I may learn new experiences they might assist me better in the future.” Hawkeye had prepared for that question.

“It is also interesting…” Faye pondered, looking between the file’s contents and Hawkeye, “That the General sends a letter and is not here with you personally.”

Riza took a sharp intake of breath, “General Mustang, as I’m sure you know, is quite consumed with the plans for Ishval. In fact, he is gearing up for another week in the desert soon, which is why he sends his best regards in the form of a letter. He is apologetic, wishing he could have met with you to discuss in person.” At Faye’s acceptance of her lie, she smiled and felt a twinge of relief. 

“I see.” He matched the signature on the forged letter to a personal copy, checking it for authenticity and after a moment was pleased by his results. “Well, I know that General Mustang holds you in the highest standing, it will be strange to not see you at his flank at all times.” 

“So, my transfer is accepted?” Riza tried her best not to sound surprised.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Officer Faye stamped a seal of approval on her file, “I wish you the best in the North and we will eagerly await your return.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She shook his hand and smiled, “And I wish you the best on your paternity leave, congratulations.”

The Officer chuckled in surprise, “Oh so you heard?”

“Word gets around, Sir.” 

“Ah yes, well, don’t believe everything you hear about me!” The two shared a laugh, Hawkeye saluted and exited swiftly. Officer Faye returned to his paperwork, looking towards the calendar with a hopeful smile. “Just one more day of work…”

End Flashback...

Riza leaned her head against the metal of the truck, attempting to still her head against the jostling of the road. Forging everything had been the easy part, but lying to Mustang directly had been the most difficult. After securing her transfer, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye handed General Roy Mustang a request for a one month leave of absence. The excuse goes for a sick, distant relative back east who needed her care, a family obligation that the General had not heard about before. Once Mustang had signed the request for leave, she had taped the paper underneath her desk so it would be hard to stumble upon. This way, the military would have her filed under Transferred, and the General would just think she was on Leave of Absence. Riza Hawkeye would arrive at Fort Windsor and immediately request transfer to Briggs, it would be too suspicious if she transferred right back to Central. Once she got to Briggs, Riza would ask General Armstrong for a favor, to help her get sent from Briggs to Central by the end of the month. She would return officially and Mustang would welcome her back from her “leave” and everything would return to normal. The plan was risky of course, should anyone find out the wrong information, or if General Armstrong refused to help her, well, Riza would cross that bridge when she came to it. Going against the rules was also very uncharacteristic of her, she knew that but there was no way she would let Mustang go to the frontlines of a new fort, not when he was so close to his goal.

Riza closed her eyes, wondering how much longer it would be until they reached the train station. It wasn’t that far from Central Command so they should have been arriving soon. An anxious feeling wormed itself into the pit of her stomach, and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye hoped she would be able to just sleep it off.

To be continued…


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I'll try to stay consistent with posting. Also thank you for reading and for bearing with me through my OC's because this fic is centered on Riza Hawkeye for the early part and I kind of need them to help further plot points, but I tried to make them fun! Don't worry though, you'll see plenty of the Mustang Crew later on ;)

Chapter 2: Arrival

8 hours later

There was no sense of time or place, why hadn't they reached the train station yet? The increasing temperature inside the cargo truck was unbearable when stuffed with 30 soldiers. They could not see the outside, nor talk to the driver. There was no way of knowing anything until they stopped. Hawkeye remained quiet as men began to complain, needing to use the restroom, requiring food and water. More time passed and Riza attempted to comfort a headache using her jacket as a pillow. It felt like decades now. Suddenly the truck halted, sending the soldiers flying forward from where they sat. After a few moments of confusion, the big double doors swung open and a snowy wind flurried into the truck. Men lept out, one by one, distracted from their complaints by the joy of fresh air. Hawkeye stepped down, landing in a snowy pile with the rest of them, and looked around to see the three trucks all stopped on the side of the road. Snowflakes caked the ground. The most shocking detail, Hawkeye noted, was that it was night time. They hadn't stopped to get on the train, nor given food or water or bathroom breaks. She didn’t know exactly what time it was, but they were definitely in the North. ‘What is going on?’ She wondered.

Riza stumbled in the snow as she made her way around their makeshift rest stop, though no one was providing food or water. It was freezing, having nothing but her normal uniform jacket and hood to shield her from the new elements, she almost missed the stuffy air of the cargo truck. The soldiers were growing antsy but as always she stayed complacent, attempting to hide so that no one would recognize her. It was better to stay aloof, it was better that no one asked questions of her. After only half an hour, all the soldiers were loaded back into the trucks, but not without more complaint. An officer came to shut the doors, his stern face was hollowed, with one grey eye glaring at them from sunken cheeks.

He barked at them, “Quit whining, we are almost there.” He slammed the doors shut, the truck engine roared to life and the journey started again.

2 Hours Later

Just as Riza had finally dozed off against the bumps and jostling of the truck, it came to a halt once more. The doors swung open, and Riza stood quickly, pulling her jacket closer to her as she tried to avoid a shiver. Hopping down into the snow, she looked up to see the new fort. Fort Windsor with its towering black walls, were not as impressive as Briggs, but was intimidating nonetheless. 

The soldiers were filed into lines, entering the Fort's main entrance. From there, they were being separated into groups based on ranking. Hawkeye's group of thirty or so, were led down a few flights of stairs and down a long cement hallway. The officer leading them came to a door marked with a sign 'Examination Room 3'. A familiar and wary feeling crept into Riza’s stomach, the kind of feeling that made her eyes scan for threats with heightened speed, it had become habitual over the years. The group flowed into the room, where curtains separated spaces for what appeared to be make-shift medical exam rooms. ‘This is strange.’ Riza bit her lip nervously. The soldiers whispered to each other in concerned tones, after all, new Fort proceedings were usually not this...intrusive. 

Her keen eye caught the difference in the uniforms of the men who had led her group here. No military blues, instead they had been replaced with a dark grey, simple canvas material, uniform. Riza looked at the officers taking them one by one behind the curtains, they looked fatigued, like they hadn’t slept in days. Military conditions weren’t always nice, and getting a new fort up and running under the threat of possible attack couldn’t have been easy, she tried reasoning to herself.

Finally it was Hawkeye’s turn. An officer, in the strange type of uniform and a lab coat approached her and without smiling, he escorted her behind a curtain. 

“You will shower. Once you are through and put your undergarments back on, we will begin your health exam.”

Before she could protest, the curtain was shut and she was left alone with a small shower in the corner. The stark, metal shower made Riza shiver as she undressed and stepped into the metal walls. When the water poured from the showerhead, she expected it to be cold, warm if she was lucky, but definitely not scalding hot. Her body instinctively looked for a way out but she stopped herself from leaving the confines of the metal shower, afraid of the brisk air that would chill her to her core. She decided to favor the heat. 

The water stopped suddenly, which forced her to exit the shower and dry off. Folded on a stool near her, was a fresh white shirt and shorts which she put on with haste. Riza went to reach for her uniform and noticed it was gone. ‘That’s strange. I know I left it here by the stool.’ She had never been asked to shower like that before an exam, and now her uniform was missing. It was unnerving to think about.

The officer in the lab coat walked in with a clipboard, shutting the curtain behind him.

"All right, now...Mustang, was it?"

"No, Sir. There was a transfer."

"I see." He approached Hawkeye with a usual set of doctor tools. He checked her heart rate and blood pressure, weighed and measured, looked down her throat and in her ears, tested her eyes and coordination as he scrawled on his clipboard. 

"And with that," The officer said in a monotonous voice, "You will be fit for work first thing in the morning. Here is your new uniform. Put it on and please make your way to the doors where you will be escorted to your barrack." 

Leaving no room for her to question, the man in the lab coat left again and Hawkeye looked down at the uniform he had just handed her. It was the same grey and thick canvas, with none of her ranking colors or pins, just a few empty pockets and some basic combat boots. ‘Why would they need new uniforms?’ She wondered. 

Once she was dressed, Riza made her way to the entrance where she was put into a different group of soldiers. They were then escorted up flights of stairs and down another long cement hallway, lined with a bunch of metal doors. Each were given a room number by the Officer who had shut the truck door on them earlier. His grey eye scanned the new additions with a lack of emotion, his voice rang clear and harsh. 

“Soldiers, You will address me as Officer Marcon, as I am your floor monitor and everything you do goes through my approval first. You will go immediately to your barracks and sleep. Breakfast is at 0700 sharp. Your daily work assignments will be given after. Everyone is expected to pull their weight and protect this nation. Is that understood?” He scowled at them as an unceremonious chorus of “Sir, yes, Sir!” echoed in the hall. “Now straight to your assigned barracks.”

Hawkeye found her barrack and opened the metal door to a single square room with six bunks leaned against the walls. A single, narrow window with metal bars and a single light bulb on the ceiling was the only source of light. The walls were made of cement and were ice cold to the touch. Five men had gotten to it before her and claimed beds, leaving only one top bunk for her. Without a word she climbed up onto the bunk, grunting softly as the mattress was hard as a rock. The blanket was thin, the pillow flat and the sheet felt damp for some reason. Just as herself and the men had settled into silence, the sound of the metal lock on the door clicked. They were locked in, like a prison. A small drop of water landed on her forehead, then another on her cheek, Riza looked up to see a crack in the ceiling. ‘No wonder the sheet felt damp’, she thought to herself as she rolled onto her side. ‘Well at least I have the view from the window.’ 

Riza wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. A loud banging had awakened them and she sat up quickly, her body stiff and uncomfortable. A panel on the door slid open, revealing a grey eye and a gruff voice. 

“Get up, soldiers. Eat and then make your way to me for assignments and drills.” The panel slid shut and the metal lock clicked open. As they donned their new uniforms, the group in the room introduced themselves before heading to the dining hall. All of them were Lieutenants like her.

The small dining hall, if you could call it that, was only a few rickety tables with even riskier chairs. There weren't nearly enough seats needed, many were sitting on the cold ground clutching their breakfasts. Hawkeye approached the counter and was given a cup and a bowl, and an officer dumped some kind of slop into her dish. It’s viscosity was so vile she looked up and made eye contact with him. He was roughed up, with a scar running down one side of his face. She noticed he had one pin on his collar, ‘he must have been here for a while’. 

He nodded to the side and said, “Move along, little girl."

"Little girl?" Hawkeye was taken aback, she was rarely disrespected, but she assumed it wouldn’t be the last time here.

"Go on, move it.” The officer with the scar barked.

Riza decided not to retort, she needed to keep a low profile. She slid down against a wall, into a sitting position and started nibbling on a stale piece of bread that had been tossed onto her bowl. Stirring around the grey mush in her bowl, she tried not to grimace at it. ‘Was it oatmeal?’ She couldn't really tell. 

"Mind if I sit here?" Hawkeye looked up to see an older man, a soft face with little spectacles. He was a little on the shorter side, and thicker around the waist. Seeing as there wasn't much room anywhere else, she nodded and he slid down beside her. Once he settled himself he put his hand out to her. 

"My name is Patrick-well, Sargent Davies, but you can just call me Patrick." 

“Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.”

Riza shook hands with the man but did not match his warmth, she felt too much on guard here. They sat in silence, Riza picked at her food and attempted to eat some of the mush but found it had a sour taste. Finally admitting defeat, she slid the bowl away and clutched onto her cup of lukewarm coffee, no sugar, no milk. She preferred tea but there was just the bitter, black coffee.

"Well, the food is unsettling but at least they make coffee...?" Patrick attempted conversation and Riza just nodded, she didn't have time to worry about these conditions, just had to bide enough time, a few days at least, until she could request a transfer. A bell rang and woke her from her thoughts, it was time to go down to the main hall for drills. 

The main hall was the largest part of the fort, even with the fifty tanks lined against a wall, there was still a considerable amount of space for a track and a temporary shooting range. It’s walls seemingly stretched a few stories high, with balconies for superior officers to watch their soldiers progress. When she arrived, they were lined up into rows and told to stand, quiet at attention. Riza glanced at the others, they too had all been stripped of the blue uniforms and were replaced with the grey ones. It still seemed strange that their rankings weren't being attached to them.

A new officer walked into the room, he was older and his hair was starting to thin underneath his general’s hat. His grey uniform had multiple, unrecognizable pins. 'So he has a ranking showing? Is it to show that he's in command?' Riza thought, observing his behavior. As the decorated officer approached the group, he was flanked by Officer Marcon and a few others. This new voice echoed across the room clearly and confidently.

"Soldiers, welcome to Fort Windsor. You will address me as General Boeller." The General cracked a smile that sent a shiver down her spine, "May God have mercy on your souls." 

Hawkeye's brows furrowed, 'This place seems off. Something is not right.'

The drills began, most were typical military exercises such as weights, push ups and sit ups, running, and weaponry. Hawkeye knew she was average enough when it came to physicality, she was able to pull her weight, but weaponry was her strongest suit. Her squadron lined up at the temporary shooting range and each of them were handed a standard rifle. One by one they went up to shoot. Every time a bullseye was hit, the target moved further away and they were only given six shots each. Most of the men got their targets to move back about three times, until Hawkeye got up to shoot. She shot once, twice, three times-the target moved to the highest record, she shot another, and another and another until the target reached the wall. The others watched in either amusement or frustration, a common occurrence where Hawkeye was concerned. 

Hawkeye was still focused on her target when she felt a hand on her shoulder, immediately feeling a coldness consuming her entire body. She looked up to see the General smiling down at her,

"That's some impressive skill you have. Where'd you learn to shoot like that, Soldier?"

Against the knotted feeling in her stomach, she stood quickly at attention with a salute. "Self-taught, Sir." She said. 

The General motioned for her to step aside, to talk away from the others. Hawkeye stood with him while the General's assistant was shooed away for privacy. 

"General Boeller." The General introduced himself again, his voice was convincing, but something about him wasn't right. She decided she would play along for now, at the very least get transferred and report this place for a low functioning work environment. 

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye." She saluted.

The General chuckled, "Maybe you are, but at ease, Soldier. See I don't really care what your ranking is, because things are going to be different here at Windsor. Do you know why?”

"No, sir." She kept her usual focused stare, but underneath Riza was puzzled. 'What does he want from me?'

General Boeller continued as they began to walk around, "There is something new that I want to establish, a certain, special kind of training...these uniforms are just the beginning. Here everyone starts at the bottom. You work hard with our system, you are rewarded with our ranking. We want to train our soldiers in more than just combat, we want to train in strategy, and it is best to start with a clean slate.” 

Hawkeye did not respond, only stared straight, unwavering. He continued, "Well, I see your marksmanship is unparalleled. And as you are so calm and collected, how would you feel about running some of the shooting areas? Teach the newer meat how to shoot?" 

Riza was surprised, she hadn’t expected to be offered a job especially when she was planning to transfer away. ‘So much for a low profile.’ 

"Just think about it, Soldier." The General placed his hand on her shoulder again, returning the chill to her body. This man could not be trusted. He leaned in close, to make sure she locked eyes with him, "I see great things in you, Soldier."

He stepped away and turned on his heel, she clenched her fists. Suddenly General Boeller turned around, locking eyes again. "Hawkeye was it? You were one of Mustang's men right?" He narrowed his eyes, "Be careful of your loyalties, your actions have consequences."

A few hours later

Riza walked back to her barrack, her muscles tense, it was like boot camp all over again. She opened the metal door to see the men standing in a circle, speaking in a heated conversation. She closed the door behind her, alerting the other soldiers of her presence. They looked at her for a moment in silence, until Lance, a taller and slender soldier broke the news. 

"We've been robbed."

It took her a second to register what he said, Riza was confused, "Robbed how?" That’s when she noticed their bags strewn about the room, opened and nearly empty. She quickly made a way to her own bag. “What did they take?”

They watched her rummage through her bag for a moment, “It seems they took our IDs and any personal files we had stored in our bags.” Christoff added. Sure enough they were right. Upon inspection, she found her ID and a file containing all of her contact info, address, etc. was missing.

"Who could have done this?" She asked them.

Lance scratched his head, "Well...Malcom said he was taken on a security detail run and when he passed our floor, Officer Marcon, and his team were going from barrack to barrack.”

Malcom shifted his feet and shrugged, "I didn't think much of it at the time, but seeing as how our stuff is missing, I'd say it had to be them?"

'This can't be happening.' Riza thought to herself, the other men may have been confused but she was beginning to feel panic. 'Okay, I have at least a month to get out of here, I just have to convince the General to sign my transfer and-' 

"Hey you comin'?" Christoff tilted his head. She saw the men were standing by the door, ready to go to the mess hall for dinner. "I mean this is a lot to take in, but maybe dinner will be a good excuse to ask if anyone else had this happen to them.”

Riza agreed but she wasn't settled. When they got to the mess hall, sure enough, other soldiers had experienced the same problem. The soldiers were discussing it when Hawkeye stepped up to the counter, the officer serving the food was the same as before and he snickered when he overheard their conversation.

"Well, they sure didn't waste their time snatching up IDs this week." 

Riza felt a heat inside despite the cold air, "So they are taking everyone's property? They won't get away with that."

"They already have..." The soldier leaned up real close to her face, "And if I were you, I'd try and get on their good side.” He slopped a red meat mush onto her tray, which splattered some watery sauce on her face and uniform. "Move along."

Riza was overwhelmed, and she dumped her tray, not desiring to eat. 'What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?' She went up to a sink by the coffee station and washed her face, but before she could grab a towel, one was handed to her from the side. Taking it she saw that the holder was the bespectacled man from earlier, Patrick. He had a gentle smile and soft features for a man his age. "I saw what happened at the counter..." 

Riza took the kind gesture and sighed, "I only wonder if every day is going to be like this." 

"It has been," Patrick stuttered a bit, "I-I mean, at least as far as I know, of course I've only been here about a week before your section arrived."

A bell rang, and everyone looked around, confused. An officer standing watch called out for dinner to be dismissed, earning groans from men who attempted to finish the last of their meal quickly.

"They monitor us so strictly," Riza stated, observing the superior officer currently checking out soldiers with a clipboard. "Why?"

"I don't know," Patrick said, "But I guess we better hold on tight for now. There isn't much we can do, not without our IDs..." 

Riza thanked him and walked away, checking out with the superior officer, and headed towards her barrack once more. 

She hopped into her bunk as the soldiers got settled in for the night. They heard their door click and lock again. Lance attempted to open the door and failed, banging on the metal panel. 

"Hey! Why are we locked in?"

No answer. 

After a while, the talk died down into restless slumber. Hawkeye, turned to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. 'I wonder what Mustang would think about this? ...Mustang...' She had been thinking about him all day, he had no idea she was here. 'I wonder what he's doing right now?' Riza thought as her breathing slowed to an even pace and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Central Command Center, 9pm

Roy locked up the office, and strolled down the halls of Central Command. It had been a long time since he had been the last one to leave, usually Hawkeye was the one to lock everything up and she was the first one there in the morning. 

He sighed and glanced out a window as he walked, 'I wonder how she is doing back East? She left a few days ago, I thought she would've called...' Well, he had wanted her to call at least, but she was not under his rule at all times, she was allowed to have a life without him. He felt guilty for always taking so much. 'I shouldn't bother her, she deserves some space.' Still, he couldn't help but wonder if she was okay taking care of her distant aunt who had fallen ill. He had never heard of this aunt before, he knew her Father had no siblings so it must be from her moms side. She never spoke of her mother so he figured it was best not to pry any further when she requested leave. 

Roy took his time stepping down the front stairs leading to the courtyard, looking back up at the building. Normally Central command was a center of bustling activity and always seemed to be full, but tonight it seemed empty. The office had been quiet all day, the men hadn't talked much and Hayate was not around to play with. As he walked down the street, he mused to himself. 'For being so quiet, the office always seems louder when she's around...' Roy decided to skip the bar that night, after all, he'd have to be the first one in the morning. He didn't mind that much, but he did hope that Hawkeye would return soon. Looking up to the stars he thought to himself, 'Hurry back, Lieutenant.'


	3. Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back to chapter 3! Any comments or kudos are welcome! I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 3: Turn

Fort Windsor, 12:30pm  
Her muscles ached, yearning for a break but were given none. She finished her set of push-ups and took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the pain. The drills were intense, it was basically boot camp all over again. Officers that outranked her yelled exercises and blew their whistles, signaling them to go harder, run faster. Hawkeye was used to the pressure, but she noticed that some of the other men were not. 

An officer blew a whistle and dismissed them for lunch, which happened to be an unappetizing meal of shriveled meat and soggy cabbage, just as the day before had been. Riza took the opportunity to make her way down to the offices, deciding not to stay and push her luck. 'I need to get a transfer form, though I have no idea how long it will take to get approved...' She thought as she walked up to a desk, which was carved out of the wall, shielding the office cubicles from view. 

"Excuse me?" Riza politely asked the soldier sitting at the desk, she observed he had a large bruise on the side of his face. 'I wonder how that happened.'

The soldier did not look up from a file he was currently reading, "All incoming forms must be signed with the proper identification numbers and-"

"I'm just here to pick up a form."

"What kind?" He asked in an uninterested tone.

"Just a transfer request form."

The soldier snapped his head up, a snarky expression crossed his face. "Yeah...right. Not happening." 

Riza was taken aback, "I'm sorry?"

"No can do. It's not gonna happen, you'd have better luck surviving a blizzard in your underwear." He laughed dryly, shaking his head.

"You can't deny a form to a soldier, that's against military regulations." Her brown eyes stared hard, unwavering and confident.

The soldier scratched the back of his neck and whistled out a breath of air, "Look, I can give you the form but I'm just letting you know that it's a waste of time."

"Why is that?"

"Not one request for transfer has been approved since the first soldier stepped foot in this Fort."

"How many have you had?"

"Plenty. Even my own. All forms go through General Boeller and he refuses to sign any of them. Trust me, I've asked."

"Please I need one, I have to try."

"I don't know…” the soldier sighed, “It doesn't matter what the reason or how good of a reason it is, he's not gonna approve it."

‘What is wrong with these people?’ Riza mentally screamed.

"Please, I have to go, it's very important." She hated pulling this card, but it usually worked in her favor when her ranking or steadfast intimidation didn’t. She softened her gaze and tilted her brows up slightly, looking as sad as she could. 

The soldier looked her over for a minute, then rolled his eyes and opened a drawer, "Fine, here you go but don't come crying to me when it doesn't get approved." He reached over the desk to hand it to her. Riza searched his uniform and found his nametag, along with three pins on his collar, 'So he's been here for awhile too.' 

“Thank you, Keller.”

She turned on her heel and he watched her walk down the hall and around the corner. Keller scoffed and turned back to his work, muttering to himself. “You’re gonna be disappointed, Miss.”

Fort Windsor  
1 Week Later  
Hawkeye leaned against the cold cement of the main hall, feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous. The soldiers were currently running laps around the wide expanse of the room, where most had managed a few laps before nearing a point of exhaustion. Each morning drill has been raised in level each day with little nutritional support from the meager portion of their meals. It had already been a little over a week since she had turned in her request form, but no answers had come from it. 

Every day since her arrival had been the same. A quick, grueling breakfast followed by intense drills and some time at the makeshift shooting range.The rest of the day would include some form of lunch and they would be selected for training in special skills like scouting or communications. Some nights they even worked on the construction of weapons, like rifles and tanks, before being locked in a room overnight.

Morale was low, constantly being yelled at was normal from military officers, but the humiliation tactics were on another level. Riza recalled a few instances that had happened over the week that made her stomach churn. One soldier was made to take off his uniform and run laps in the cold air of the main hall, simply because his uniform was stained with oil from working on the construction of a tank. There was also rumor of a soldier being taken into a supply room and beaten by a superior officer, which of course was denied but the bruises didn't lie. Riza realized early on that this place was becoming more dangerous by the second. 

As an officer screamed at her and broke her from her thoughts, Hawkeye scraped herself from the wall and began to run another lap. Another thing she disliked about the fort was that it was still cold even when you were wearing a full uniform, her hands were constantly losing circulation and her fingers were numb most of the time. 

After the drills, Hawkeye dreaded going to the showers. The tile was freezing and the water was boiling hot, only able to burn you for a minute before you had to jump back out into the bone-chilling air. 

Once she was finished she made her way down to the dining area, the line for food was longer than usual today. There was some kind of commotion going on at the front of the line. The gruff soldier, with the scar, at the front of the counter was being yelled at by some of the soldiers.

"What do you mean this is all we get?" A soldier held up a stale piece of bread, "This is not enough! We're starving!"

Another piped in, "Our rations cannot be that low already!"

More soldiers began to intervene until finally the soldier behind the counter snapped, "Fine! You don't want bread? Then you get nothing!" And he slammed the counter windows closed, instigating more yelling. 

‘A riot over food in a newly established fort, backed by a strong, wealthy and militarized government is not a good sign.’ Riza thought, shaking her head and sighing.

After about 15 minutes of realizing there wasn't going to be anything served, Hawkeye retreated back to her barrack in order to prep for her scouting mission. She was not looking forward to another trek in the snowy wilderness, especially with nothing more over her uniform than a pair of gloves and a winter coat that was wearing thinner by the day. 

Riza stopped by the offices before making her trek, wanting answers about her transfer form status. She walked up to the window which Keller attempted to shut as soon as he saw her coming.

"No-Wait a minute!" Hawkeye pleaded.

"Nope." Keller said, "Now, I told you not to come back cryin' when your transfer request didn't get through..."

"I was just coming to check up on it," Hawkeye said as she held the window to keep it open, "I need to get out of here! I'm desperate!"

Keller shushed her and looked around to make sure no one had heard her. When the coast was clear he sighed. "Look, your status hasn't changed, I told you. No one leaves this place. Ever. Now, go."

The window slammed shut, keeping her out. She put a hand to the metal frame, "If you get word of anything about it, please let me know."

Hawkeye huffed and grabbed her pack, quickly running down to the entrance where her group was to meet. She was relieved to see some of the men from her barrack, Malcom and Lance, as well as Patrick, who greeted her with a smile. 

"Hey, I heard we get to go all the way to the outpost today." Patrick said. He had a way of trying to make things seem better than they were, even when he knew it would not be a positive venture. 

The outpost was about three miles in the snow, uphill. The soldiers stepped outside and began to march into the snow, the flurry from earlier had stopped for now but the sky remained grey and looming. Riza shivered miserably, pulling her coat up and covering her mouth. They hiked upwards, her boots filling with wet snow and soaking her wool socks. After about an hour, the soldiers were getting tired, nearly crawling through the snow to climb over rocks and snow mounds. Hawkeye looked behind her to see how far they'd come, only seeing snow and light fog hiding the fort from view. Feeling a rush of dizziness from the scene, Riza turned back up and kept going. Eventually they reached the outpost, a little shack on a large cliff side, about halfway up the mountain. The soldiers trudged to the landing and were asked to take a knee in the snow, at least the snow was shallow here. 

An officer by the name of Coleman, who had five pins on his collar, addressed them sternly, "It took you an hour and a half to reach the top, in case of attacks we need to be able to hike it in half that time. Until then, your drills will be doubled." He looked up and pointed to the top of the mountain, "That peak up there separates us from Drachma, which means if they climb that, they can descend right on top of us. So always be on the lookout."

Coleman assembled them into sections, filing them in one at a time to tour the outpost and learn the basics of how the communication wires hooked up to the power lines. From this outpost they were able to communicate with the Fort below, as well as Fort Briggs and the Northern Command Center. Riza observed the technicians very carefully, 'I can keep this as a backup plan, if I can get a message to Briggs, maybe General Armstrong can request my transfer...', 

She gathered what information that she could but was ushered back outside into the snow as quickly as they had come in. Officer Coleman ordered them to run laps and relays in the snow, claiming to boost their stamina in the terrain. Finally after about an hour and half of the drills, they were told to assemble back into their formations. As they stood there, shivering and waiting for the signal to hike back down the mountain, Riza heard a wet slosh and small yelp. She turned around to see Lance had sent a snowball flying and it had landed hard on Patrick's back.  
Patrick, with his glasses askew, sent one flying back at Lance which missed and hit Malcom instead. The three began to distance themselves from the herd, heating up their snowball fight. 

Riza sighed, 'They are going to get in trouble...' She stepped apart from the herd and approached them.

"You guys should stop playing around, it's almost time to leave." Though she was stern, she couldn’t hide a small smile, they reminded her so much of the men back home. 

The three soldiers looked at each other for a moment and grinned back at her. Lance flung a snowball right at Hawkeye's shoulder, knocking her back a step. 

She scoffed, "Oh, you really are asking for it." She pelted one right back, hitting him in the stomach. The men laughed while she shook her head. Lance chucked another one at Hawkeye's head but missed. Instead of it’s intended target, it hit something far worse. Officer Coleman. He stomped over to them and they froze in fear.

"What is this?" He snarled, "You think it's fun to play games in a war zone? You worthless, sorry excuse for soldiers!"

Riza and her new found comrades stood in silence, the whole herd of soldiers watching them. 

Coleman clenched his fists like he was going to raise it and strike, but held back. His face was dark and furious, "Tonight, as punishment you will report to the main hall at 2200 hours. Do I make myself clear?" 

They all nodded before he dismissed them and signaled for all the soldiers to start heading back to the Fort. Hawkeye looked at Malcom, Lance, and Patrick, their faces twisted with uncertainty. She took a deep breath and wrestled with a feeling of oncoming dread for what was to come.

2200 Hours(10pm)  
Hawkeye stood at attention in the main hall alongside Malcom, Lance, and Patrick. They shivered, but stayed quiet as they awaited instructions from Officer Coleman. He approached them and yelled in their faces, angry spit flying from his lips.

"Do realize the gravity of the situation you're in?" He scoffed, "A snowball fight in the middle of a war zone-in all my years!" He leaned in real close to Patrick, who mustered all his bravery but still quivered under Coleman's wrath. "You think this is a game?"

"Sir, No, Sir!"

He backed away from Patrick and began to pace in front of them. "Do you think your little pansy asses came here to make friends and play in the snow?"

"Sir, No, Sir!" They said in unison.

"If you all think you can play around then guess what, you’ll be the first to die and your country will disgrace you like the utter piles of shit, so-called soldiers that you are!"

The situation was heating up, and while this type of discipline was not uncommon in the military, Hawkeye had never faced the receiving end of it like this. 

A door to the main hall opened swiftly, General Boeller entered. His heels clicked sharply on the cement ground as he made his way to the group. "I'll take over from here, Coleman. I have a special punishment for them."

'Special punishment?' Hawkeye felt nausea bubble in her stomach, a familiar feeling as of recently.

Coleman nodded and stepped back, allowing the General to stand front and center. He gave a sickly sweet smile, causing the men to go pale 

'So they felt the same level of uneasiness about this General.' Riza noted.

General Boeller leaned back and after an uncomfortable silence, he said clearly, "Strip."

Riza froze, unsure if she had heard correctly. The men next to her gave a similar reaction.

"Strip." He said again, louder this time, "Or are you deaf? I said strip, you maggots!"

Coleman added aggressively, "Strip your uniforms! Down to your undergarments! Now!"

The soldiers looked at each other, unsure of how to protest. 

"Now! That's a final order!" Coleman bellowed.

Patrick started first, taking off his coat and uniform jacket, then Malcom began and Lance right after. They were almost to their undershirt and boxers when Hawkeye began to take her jacket off. 

"Come on! Move it!" Coleman stamped his foot while General Boeller just smiled.

Riza was thankful the undershirt managed to hide her tattoo, she couldn’t have it be seen by random soldiers or by superior officers that she didn't trust. She slowly pulled off her uniform to join the rest of the men, 'Are they going to make us run laps? Why are we letting them do this to us?' 

Once they were down to nothing but their undergarments, shivering and waiting for something to happen, a large, garage-like door opened up leading to the outside. A flurry of snow tumbled in. 

Coleman cleared his throat and gestured to the door, "Well? Go on! You like playing in the snow? Go right ahead!"

Patrick let slip a small whimper. Malcom and Lance shook their heads desperately, fright etched on their faces. Riza was never one to speak loudly, but she couldn’t stand by for this. 

"We'll die out there." She said firmly, "You can't send us out there."

"We can and we will." Coleman was red in the face and furious, "So go!"

"What will you do? Court Marshall us?" Hawkeye tried her best to be confident against the uncertainty of the consequences, "Go ahead, Court Marshall us, being discharged is not as bad as dying."

Coleman was about to scream when General Boeller held up a calm hand again. The room was tense, waiting for him to speak. The men just stared at Hawkeye, surprised at her outburst and worried for the rebuttal. Boeller walked to her, and brandished a gun from his holster.

"Who said disobeying would get you Court Marshalled?" He stuck the cold metal under her chin with a smug expression. "Perhaps you are being given a choice, you have a better chance of surviving cold weather than you do against a gunshot to the head, hmm?" 

Hawkeye was speechless, they were actually threatening to kill them. She took a moment to think, looking at the General, "You won't do it." 

General Boeller grinned, "I will."

"You can't get away with four murders."

"Actually I can," he chuckled, "Afterall, once we place your bodies outside, we blame it all on Drachma. They killed our soldiers who were on a patrol, they seemingly stole their uniforms so we might have some spies but we’ll tell them we are investigating the incident thoroughly.” The General looked her in the eye, nudging her head up with the gun, "Would you like to be first?"

"Do it." Riza narrowed her eyes, the General chuckled and leaned back, the gun lowering. Riza felt a slight sense of relief at calling his bluff. 

A gunshot rang off, faster than she could think, and Malcom went down clutching his thigh. Lance kneeled and tried to apply pressure on the wound, blood pouring profusely over his hands. Patrick scrambled to assist and Hawkeye stood, stunned and unable to process.

The General put the smoking gun onto her shoulder, burning her slightly, but she did not flinch. "You see what happens when you disobey? You will regret it, I promise. And I always keep my promises."

Coleman snarled, "Now get out there! All of you!"

Riza’s adrenaline kicked in and she joined the men in assisting Malcom up. Lance tried to calm him as they hobbled out into the snow. "It's okay, we gotcha...don't worry it's gonna be okay..." 

Once they were outside, the garage-like door slammed shut with no telling when they would open it. The snow burned their skin as it pelted them, they huddled close and attempted to take shelter under a tree in the distance, hoping to get some cover. They stumbled through the flurry, blood trailing as they went. Malcom began to slur his words and cry, Lance tried to console him but his leg gave out and caused them to fall into the snow. Riza and Patrick helped Lance to his feet and they carried Malcom to the tree. Hawkeye had never been colder in her life, it felt like fire burning her and it was becoming difficult to breathe. They took cover under some branches, shoveling snow aside to find a patch of dirt and created a small wall, thanks to Patrick's quick thinking. Malcom was wheezing and panting through the pain as his blood spilt everywhere, pouring through Lance's hands as he applied more pressure. Patrick tried to elevate the injured leg, holding it up with his hands. 

“We n-need a tourniquet…” Patrick stuttered.

Malcom let out a cry of pain, shaking and writhing, grasping at the snowy dirt.

"You're gonna be okay....e-everything's gonna be okay...you hear me?" Lance shuddered and choked, "W-Why is there so much b-blood?"

Patrick was breathing heavily, labored from the pain of the frosted air. "It m-must've hit an artery! He's losing it fast..."

"Hey, Malcom!" Lance held his hand, "Y-You're not gonna die do you hear me?" 

Malcom was looking up into the branches of the tree, mumbling and fading fast. 

Riza had been through war, she had battled many different enemies, hell, she had helped save the entire world during the Promised Day, so bloodshed was nothing new to her. She had seen soldiers and people die right next to her, but this was all her fault. She couldn’t move, couldn't breathe, she didn't know what to do. Her hearing had been muffled by panic, only the faint sound of yelling accompanied her blurry vision. 

"Hawkeye!" She snapped out of her trance at the sound of her name and felt the stinging cold once again, Patrick was yelling, "Hawkeye! Do you know CPR?"

Hawkeye knelt down closer next to Malcom who was no longer moving, she checked his pulse to find nothing. She placed her hands on his chest, which was now cold and unmoving. Riza began to press, the CPR training was coming naturally but to no avail, she was not getting anywhere. Her skin was going from red to light blue, they would not last much longer and Malcom was not going to make it. She knew it but she kept trying until everything went black. 

Riza awoke as her body hit the cement floor, she looked up with blurred vision, fighting the disorientation and finally recognized the main hall. Next to her on the ground was Lance and Patrick, huffing wildly and covered in blood. They must have carried her back when the door opened before collapsing themselves. All three of them were trembling terribly and their skin was burning fiercely. 

General Boeller stood over them, smiling. "Well, did you have fun playing in the snow?"

Riza took a labored breath and attempted to speak but found her body was too weak. 

"Well I'm glad you did, now off to bed you three. You've got work tomorrow." The General turned on his heel and walked away, Coleman followed him and left the three soldiers to be escorted to their barracks by Officer Marcon. As soon as they made it to the barracks, still covered in blood, they were told to be quiet and go straight to sleep. Lance and Riza crawled into their bunks, their roommates were already asleep and had not awoken to greet them. She was thankful, too weak and full of anguish to answer questions. She hid her face in her stiff, cold pillow to muffle her cries, knowing she would not be sleeping anytime soon.


	4. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter for you all! I'll try to get them out more often but please enjoy! And feel free to comment or give those kudos, y'all things are about to heat up!

Chapter 4: Caught

Riza Hawkeye sat at her desk in her office in Central, on a normal day. The sun was out and shining through the window while the men were sitting at their desks thumbing through files. Mustang was at his desk flipping over papers and scribbling his signature on documents. 'Wh-What is wrong with me?' She thought as she felt a pain in her chest, clutching her stomach as it twisted into knots, the room was spinning. 

"Lieutenant?"

His voice. It felt ages away even though he was so close. Riza looked over at his desk, catching his eye, feeling paralyzed and cold.

"I finished signing that request for leave for you." Mustang held out the forms to her.

A shiver ran up her spine, noticing the sun outside was now covered by clouds and it had started to snow. Panic rose inside her and she turned to run, throwing open the office doors to escape only to find herself knee deep in snow. A pine tree stood in the distance. 

She could hear Mustang calling after her, but she trudged through the snow now waist deep, now chest deep-she was drowning in the snow. Riza fought to swim in the white abyss and her hands were covered in blood, looking down Riza saw Malcom laying in the snow and crying. She tried to call out but choked on air, Mustang was still calling her name from somewhere far away.

"Hawkeye!" His voice became more muffled, "Hawkeye!" It was like it was traveling through water, "Hawkeye!" Now it was a new voice all together.

"Hawkeye!" Lance was shaking her shoulder, waking her up from her nightmare. His face was pale and his eyes were red. She sat up slightly, wiping her wet face, 'Have I been crying?' 

The room was empty except for the two of them, "Where are the others?"

Lance sighed, "They've already left for breakfast..."

"D-Did...did you tell them?"

"A superior officer came in and woke us up, saying that Malcom had been found dead outside the fort...killed on his first patrol..."

They locked eyes. Riza felt anger surge through her veins. "They can't do this. We can't let-"

"We don't have a choice right now. We will have to tell the others later and...we'll devise a plan." Lance helped her down off the bunk and they both dressed into their uniforms. She rubbed the back of her neck, easing the soreness. 

"A plan?" She looked up from tying her boot, inquiring.

"We gather all the men we can, fight back somehow. There's more of us than them anyways." He buttoned his uniform as he spoke, lines of worry etched on his features. 

"But we don't know who is on their side yet, we need to find where their loyalties lie." Riza said, "We need to get some inside help, and if we can-place ourselves in positions of favor or resources. If we fight too fast, they will kill us."

"Right." Lance nodded as he opened the barrack door, the two headed towards the dining area.

A Few Hours Later, 2:00pm  
Riza and Lance stood in the barracks once again, having called their bunkmates for a meeting. Patrick joined them to help break the news and provide a third account of Malcom's death. 

"So...it's true then? Malcom was murdered?" Ansel, a sergeant asked, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin anxiously.

"Yes," Lance sighed, "What we said is true. Things are going to start getting worse if we don't find a way to stop them."

Christoff crossed his arms, uncertain. “But what can we do? And how can we be sure you’re telling the truth. Where’s the proof? It just seems too far fetched…”

“You’d be surprised at what any part of the military is capable of.” Riza leaned against a metal frame of the bunkbeds on which they sat. “I can remind you of events that unfolded a year ago.”

Lance shook his head, “Besides that, look around you right now, has anything seemed right since we arrived?”

The men shook their heads quietly, chewing on responses. Patrick looked up at them from his seat on the floor, an idea formed in his head.

“You wanted proof?” Patrick asked Christoff, standing up and taking off his uniform jacket. The men could see blood still stained his undershirt, Malcom's blood.

“I can’t believe…” Christoff shook his head, “We trusted them…”

Ansel put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s starting to make sense, well, at least...the strange occurrences are making sense. The switch in uniforms, the stealing of our identification cards, the mistreatment…”

“And it’s only going to get worse,” Riza said quietly, “Something needs to be done.”

The men agreed with her and discussed what to do for a while, deciding to plot quietly and devise plans from afar, remain under the radar, don’t look to cause trouble and stay alive until the moment is right. It would be hard to recruit others and not make it look suspicious, but they would try. After all was said, they nodded and formed their pact.

Lance finalized the conversation, “We will win this. We will win this for us...and for Malcom.”

The air in the room lightened with a small glimmer of reassurance, Riza knew it wouldn't be easy but she had to win this. She would return to Central, no matter what it took.

A Day Later  
Hawkeye walked down to the offices as quickly as she could without being conspicuous, Keller looked up and sighed.

"Let me guess...you are checking up on your transfer request? Oh no, wait, that's right! It never got accepted just like I told you it wouldn’t..." 

Riza went to speak but he interrupted her again.

"So what's it gonna take for you to drop it, huh?" Keller looked angry, but Riza saw something else in his expression, ‘Fear?’ she thought. The bruise he had on the side of his face was larger now, covering up at least half of his cheek.

Riza looked away for a moment then back at him, "How did you..."

Keller pointed at the bruise, "Oh...this? Yeah, you probably have already guessed, but being personal assistant to General Boeller has got its cons." He turned to start filing, avoiding eye contact with her, "He has really good aim with his fist, hits you in just the right place as to hurt you without breaking anything."

“I’m sorry…” She bit her lip, trying to think of a better response. “I want to help…”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“You don’t know what I can do.”  
Keller sighed and rubbed his face in exasperation, “Look, you’re not going to be able to change this, it’s been this way since the beginning.”

“Since the Fort’s inception?” She questioned, “That long? That’s nearly six months before I got here…”

He looked around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned over the desk to whisper. “It has, I was appointed to be General Boeller’s assistant and when I first started to notice that things weren’t right...I made a report.”

“I’m guessing Boeller didn’t approve it?”

“No, so I sent one directly to the Northern Command Center. They sent someone to do an inspection but Boeller got to them first and must’ve bribed them because nothing came of it and no one has come to inspect since.” 

Riza furrowed her brows in thought, “Did you ever try sending another report to the Northern Command Center?”

Keller huffed, “I tried but after that incident, General Boeller had my communication privileges revoked.”

“So no one is coming to routinely inspect the conditions and no one can send a report or they’ll get in trouble?”

“Exactly.” He sat back down in his chair and rubbed his neck, “If I were you? I’d keep my head down, do what you're told and…” Keller whispered again, “Try and get a position in the communication department up at the outpost, it’s the only way to contact the outside world.”

Hawkeye nodded in understanding, whispering, “Thank you.”

Keller watched her turn and stride confidently down the hall until she was out of sight. He bit his lip in thought for a moment, Hawkeye was right. And he knew this treatment was about to get worse.

"Keller!" General Boeller called from his office, down the hall, "Keller, goddamnit! Get in here!"

Keller sighed and got up from his chair, heading towards the General’s office, apprehensive of the upcoming weeks.

An Hour Later, 3:00pm  
Riza made her way down to the Main Hall, her pack slung across her shoulder. There was another scouting mission to the outpost today. She hadn’t been up there since the Malcom incident. She joined a large herd of soldiers heading up the mountain, looking around to see no familiar faces of her bunkmates or Patrick. 'Maybe I can still make a move...' she thought intently as she hiked, snow and ice filling her boots. 'I have to get to Central quick. I need to somehow alert The Northern Command Center or Briggs, if I can...'

They reached the outpost where the communications center was, having made a better travel time this round. Riza remembered what Keller had said, 'If I could somehow get in control of one of those radios or even a telegraph line...I can send a message to Briggs and they can get me out of here!' The idea was simple, but the process was another question. She had no authorization to use the equipment, it was not her department. 

Riza followed the herd of men to where a small avalanche had covered a signal line to the Northern Command Center. ‘I hope the one to Briggs is still intact’. She thought.

A superior officer ordered them to start digging through the snow to uncover the downed line. She looked around at the soldiers struggling to lift the tons of snow, many of them tired and dehydrated like her. The work was as endless as it was back breaking. 

"Why are we doing this if they have snow plows that could do this kind of work?" One soldier complained. The superior officer in charge overheard him and slapped the soldier on the back of the head. 

"Quit your bitchin' and work faster."

The soldier glared at him before returning to work. Riza looked at the outpost, noticing a few men step outside for a smoke break. She raised her hand to signal for the officer’s attention.

"What is it, soldier?"

"May I use the latrine, Sir?" She looked up at him from where she kneeled in the snow. 

"Fine," he said in exasperation, "but be quick about it, you have a lot of work to do." He pulled the shovel from her hands roughly and pushed her away as she stood. She gave him a look when he turned around, eyes narrowed.

Riza walked up to the doors of the building, halted suddenly by a hand covering the entrance. 

"Ah, Ah, Ah, not so fast..." The soldier blocking her way was smoking a cigarette, "Identification?"

"I don't have an ID anymore." 

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to turn right around and walk the other way." He took a puff from his cigarette, pointing to the three pins on his collar, “Unless you got three of these you’re not allowed in here.”

Riza took a breath and sunk her boots farther into the snow, trying to stand her ground. “I just need to use the latrine. Let me pass”

The soldier chuckled, looking at his fellow guard and then back at her. Then he did something that made Hawkeye's blood boil. The two soldiers looked her up and down, laying their eyes on places they knew they shouldn't be. The one soldier licked his lips, "What's in it for me?"

Riza was stunned, then angry, "If you know what's good for you, you'll let me use the latrine and leave me alone."

The two soldiers snickered, "Oh boy, you here that? We better let her...." they mocked before the soldier moved his arm to let her pass, "Fine. I'll let you in-but..."

"But?"

"You'll let me sneak into your bunk later tonight? Trust me, I'm actually doin' ya two favors for that." The soldier snickered and slapped hands with the other soldier.

Riza resisted the urge to knock his lights out, it was rare that she faced this problem. Mustang and her reputation in the East and in Central were usually enough to deter most from lewd comments, but she was glad that Mustang wasn't around. The whole mountainside would be aflame. Instead she took a breath. 

"Go to hell."

"Whaddja say you little bit-"

Before he could finish, she pushed past him aggressively and made her way into the building. The door shut the two men out and away from her. Hawkeye looked around, all the radios were being attended to but the soldiers were facing away from her, very intent on their work. No one had even noticed her presence. She spied the telegraph sitting in the far corner away from them, easy enough to just sneak over to. Using her sniper skills and watching the soldiers carefully, Riza casually worked the telegraph. So far, so good. Her hands continued the message slowly...

“Fort Windsor. S.O.S”

The door to the outpost opened and the two soldiers from earlier entered, spotting her immediately.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!" 

Riza saw them and whipped back to hit the button to send the telegraph to Briggs. The two soldiers grabbed her arms, dragging her while the men by the radios watched the struggle. She writhed in the soldier's grasp. "Let me go! I was just-just seeing how to use it!"

The soldier laughed and pulled her towards the door, "Oh you're in big trouble, you know that?"

She fought them hard but was overpowered. A fist collided with her stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of her as she crumpled to the ground. The soldiers pulled Riza up from underneath her arms and dragged her out into the snow, dumping her at the superior officer's feet. 

Three hours later, 6:00pm  
Riza leaned her head against the wall, letting the cold from the concrete soothe her growing headache. She was sitting on the floor in an unfamiliar hallway and tried to breathe carefully, nursing her bruised stomach. A door opened and Coleman stepped out, his gruff face was stern as usual, but his eyes were filled with animosity as he held a lit cigarette in his hand. 

"Stand up, Soldier.” 

Riza slowly scooted herself up the wall till she was standing, masking the pain and bracing herself. 'I wonder what my punishment will be...' she dreaded, 'Probably hurt me in some way...will they kill me?'

Coleman held open the door to his office, "Hurry up, sit down."

Riza sat in the chair facing the desk which was stark in itself, and the grey wood made Coleman look more like a ghost. There was very little paper or supplies which told her that he wasn't at his desk very often, the dust collected on it only proved that theory. She sat straight and orderly, watching every move he made. Coleman sat at the desk, taking another drag of his cigarette before stuffing it in the ashtray.

"Look here soldier, I have one question and I want it answered. And I want it answered now."

Riza stared straight, unwavering. 

"What were you doing sneaking into the outpost?" 

She never moved her eyes from his, "I was testing the equipment."

"Lies." He narrowed his eyes, "I want the truth."

"Sir, I would like to participate in the communications department."

Coleman's short fuse blew too quickly, spilling the ashes from its tray when he slammed a fist on the desk. "I know you are trying to pull something and I promise you it won't work! Now tell me what you sent. Immediately!"

"I sent nothing, Sir."

Coleman rose from the desk, sending it sliding towards her. She jumped back in the chair as he made his way to her. He leaned in close to her face, growing redder and spitting as he spoke, "Goddamnit soldier, that's a final order. Tell me!"

Riza looked up at him, "No." 

The next thing she knew, she felt the back of his hand whip across her face, forcing her into a leaning position over the arm of the chair. She caught her breath before whipping around to face a still raging Coleman. "A superior should never lay his hands on a subordinate."

"What did you say?" He huffed and shoved her to the floor in attempts to grab her, she landed with a hard thump and a gasp.

She matched his seething gaze, fiercely replying, "You're no leader."

"WHAT?"

"You're a disgrace to the military-"

It only took Coleman two strides to reach her, grabbing Riza by the uniform collar and aggressively throwing her against the wall. She raised her arms in defense but was halfway pinned by him. Hawkeye and Coleman wrestled as she squirmed out of his grasp multiple times only to be caught again. He was physically stronger than her and in his anger, he punched her in the side making Hawkeye yelp, her legs failed her and gave him the opportunity to clutch her by the throat. He squeezed and she scratched at him and by a stroke of luck, managed to get her leg in between his to knee him in the groin. He yelled and clutched himself, letting her slip out of his clutches. Riza bolted up and ran towards the door, but it swung open and knocked her flat on her back. Her heart raced, for whoever entered next would either be her savior or her killer.


	5. Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone! There is a minor tw for this chapter about halfway in, I did make this chapter a bit shorter for that reason. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: Trap

...Riza bolted up and ran towards the door, but it swung open and knocked her flat on her back. Her heart raced, for whoever entered next would either be her savior or her killer.

General Boeller walked through the doorway, looking down at a disheveled Hawkeye. A few steps away Coleman was still clutching himself in pain. 

"Officer Coleman, what is going on in here?"

Coleman tried to stutter out a passable response, "I-I was interrogating, General, Sir! This soldier-!"

The General held up a hand to silence him, "I know what she has done. I'll handle the situation from here."

The two superior officers looked at her before the General signaled for her to follow him. She hesitated for a second, but what choice was left except to be beaten to death by Coleman. It was an uncertain future to join General Boeller, but better than here, she decided. 

Riza stood quickly, stumbling to balance herself, then followed the General and did not dare to look back at Coleman. Boeller was silent as they walked, seemingly not perturbed at all. She stayed quiet as she limped behind him down the corridor, slowly passing Keller's desk. 

Keller caught her eye, looking concerned as his eyes followed them until they were out of his sight. The General led her into his office and shut the door behind them. His office was much nicer than Coleman's, with a large wooden desk and two chairs facing it. He had bookshelves filled with odds and ends, on his desk was a gold nameplate and fancy pens. Unlike Coleman’s, Boeller’s desk was clean and free of dust, organized, certain that he was here more often than not. Hawkeye noted a large stack of files on a shelf behind the desk and a few stacks overflowing in a waste bin. Strange that he never signed any paperwork. 'Keller must be right, he never does let any of the transfers go through, he probably never even looks at them...' She thought.

Riza then noticed a radio on a table in the corner, a radio fit for contacting the outside. 

"Have a seat, soldier." The General was being oddly kind despite the situation, it was unnerving to her. "Hawkeye-was it?"

Riza focused, sitting down in one of the chairs, "Yes, Sir."

The General did not sit behind his desk as Coleman had done, instead leaned himself slightly on the front edge of his desk, facing her. 

“If I recall correctly you were under Colonel-excuse me, it’s now General Mustang in, uh, Central, correct?"

She stared at him and wondered, 'What is he getting at?'

“Yes, Sir.”

"Does he know you're here?"

The tension in the room fell so thick around her, she could barely breathe. Hawkeye quickly rationalized, 'If I say yes, could he use Mustang against me? If I say no, he can kill me and not have to cover any tracks.'

He took her silence as an answer.

The General sighed and folded his hands together. "Do you realize the heavy weight you're carrying? The situation you've put yourself in?"

"Are you going to kill me?" 

Boeller raised his eyebrows in surprise, he chuckled, "No, No...No, I don't want to do that. I think you have too much value. You have great skills and hard working hands that I'd hate to waste." 

He held something in his expression that Riza couldn't quite place, and it baffled her as much as it frightened her. "I told you that I see great things in you, and even despite this little..."incident"... I think we can work on meeting halfway, don't you?"

Hawkeye furrowed her brows and stared straight on, "I don't understand."

General Boeller scratched his chin and looked at her for a moment, the smile that crept over his face sent a chill up her spine, just as it had before. 'What is this feeling? Why am I so anxious?' She had faced homunculi and worked under Bradley, and as far as she was concerned, this man couldn't have been more dangerous than them. Still, she felt a deep instinct inside herself screaming at her to get away from him.

The General spoke softly, still eerily calm, "I think that you can reap the benefits of being a top soldier here if you're willing to stay in line, and trust me the rewards are worth the work. I see more job opportunities, career paths and of course the right kind of promotions..." He leaned forward and tapped one finger on her knee, whispering, "All you have to do...is want it."

Riza's heart was beating out of her chest but she kept her composure. The message of flight, flight, flight flooded her mind. It told her to run as far and as fast as she could. But she stayed and fought. 

"You would trust a soldier, who snuck into the communications building and sent a message to Briggs, to work up the ranks and give them promotions?"

"Well..." General Boeller smiled a bit wider, "I've elected to give you a second chance seeing as how the message was stopped short due to a cut power line, and it never reached Briggs...."

Riza sat in stunned silence. ‘They cut the power line?’

He chuckled again, "Your message failed and no one is coming to rescue you."

Hawkeye's eyes widened and her stomach dropped, she felt sick. The General took her reaction and decided to toy with it, leaning closer until he was mere inches from her face.

"But don't worry, Soldier. You may not be leaving this Fort but...you can be one of us. I can even forget this whole incident ever happened..." The General chuckled and placed his hand on her knee, rubbing it gently. He slowly looked her up and down all over her body, "...all you have to do is make the right moves..."

That's when she saw it, why she had that frightening feeling. Riza’s intuition had been sending her red flags since she first met him, it was that look in his eye. Boeller’s eyes were slow and meticulous, as if he could see right through her uniform and stopped at every inch that was private. Every second that passed was overwhelming and suddenly she could smell all of his musk and the odor of whiskey. Her body froze and she felt caged by him. General Boeller leered and slid his hand up further up her thigh. 

"So? What do ya say, Hawkeye? Are you ready to make the right moves?" His voice sounded like it was traveling through water, distant. She was frozen, her head was spinning and all she could manage to do was shake her head. 'No. No. No!'

‘Snap out of it!’ Her breath hitched and she seized an opportunity. She punched his chest and pushed him away. Riza leapt out of the chair, but he was quicker and grabbed her around her waist. She squirmed but he held her tightly, his breath creeping down the back of her neck. 

Boeller said huskily into her ear, "You are gonna make the right moves whether you want to or not." 

He spun around to fling her onto the wooden desk, but she grabbed the corner of it and used her leg to kick him in the shin. He recovered quickly and grabbed her arms as she struggled against him. Boeller pushed her against the wall, her head slamming against it. Using his weight and a quick knee to her stomach, he held her in place against the wall while Riza continued to squirm. His hands finally managed to pin her arms at her sides and he watched her struggle with rapt attention. 

“C’mon, things aren’t so bad here if you know which orders to follow…” Boeller’s voice echoed in her ears as she grew weaker, losing the ability to push against him. 

Riza was finding it hard to breathe, her stomach ached and she could not find her footing. A realization hit her, she had barely eaten in days, she was dehydrated and overworked. This was not a fight she could win. 

“Tell me…” Boeller grinned as he felt her loosen under his grasp, “Did Mustang ever touch you like this-”

At the mention of his name, anger boiled inside her. Hawkeye brought her forehead to his in a forceful collision, the impact made Boeller cry out in pain. She had almost slipped from him again before a fist came down on the side of her temple, knocking her to the ground and he followed. The General grabbed Riza by the leg and tried to pull her towards him. His arm went around her waist and one clamped itself over her mouth.

A knock on the door halted everything. 

Hawkeye screamed behind his hand and squirmed harder, fighting him with everything she had left. 

"Don't come in!" Boeller called out.

Hawkeye heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door, "Sir?" Keller asked as he turned the knob, "I have some documents for-" 

Keller paled at the sight of Hawkeye fighting the General, who were now frozen staring up at him. Riza saw the opening that Keller had made for her and she pushed the General away one last time. She stumbled forward, catching herself on the doorframe and running from the office.

Keller stood still in the doorway, sweating under General Boeller's angry glare. He sighed and stepped into the office, closing the door behind him and blocked the path between the General and Hawkeye. Boeller composed himself before making his way over to his assistant. 

Keller knew what was coming next and he knew this time it was gonna hurt...really hurt.


	6. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, two chapters in two days? I was feeling inspired to write and felt that last chapter needed to be followed up quickly, so here you go! I think this is also the longest chapter so far, fun! Please enjoy! Comments and Kudos welcome!

Chapter 6: Promise

Riza lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling with her eyes out of focus. She was numb, cold from the inside and her body remained still, like the world may fall apart if she moved. As if this bunk bed in the barracks was the only safeplace left, ‘You’re acting like a child..’ She told herself.

The crack in the ceiling dripped drops of water onto her face, cascading down her cheek. Riza had no energy to move or wipe her face, she tried to empty her mind so she wouldn't scream or cry. She thought of General Mustang. She wished she never had to face him again, yet there wasn't anyone she wished to see more. Riza thought about him constantly and in this moment, her heart ached for the comfort he brought her. Her mind was so entranced, she barely registered the door to the barracks opening. 

Lance and Christoff entered the room, grabbing a few things before heading towards the door again. Lance turned around, noticing Hawkeye laying in her bunk. 

"Oh hey, Hawkeye, were you gonna come get some dinner? The dining hall is closing soon."

Christoff smiled, "Yeah I heard they might even have some hot food tonight?"

Riza did not move, she did not look at them, she didn't even acknowledge them. Another drop fell and splashed on her cheek but she did not move. Lance and Christoff watched her for a moment then looked at each other inquisitively. They set down their packs and walked towards the bunk. Lance propped himself up on the edge and gently nudged her shoulder.

"Hey...you, uh...okay?"

No response. ‘What am I supposed to even say?’ Riza bit her lip, trying to muster words but they never left her lips.

Christoff and Lance looked at each other again, then looked up to see the crack in the ceiling dripping onto her face. Christoff sighed and hoisted himself up onto the bunk, sitting on the bed next to Hawkeye while Lance climbed the other side, pulling out a handkerchief. 

"Well..." Christoff ran his fingers through his hair, "That crack in the ceiling must be pretty bothersome, huh?"

No response. 

Lance tapped her shoulder, "Hey, Hawkeye...that water has been falling for a bit, I'm gonna wipe your face, is that okay?" Hawkeye just nodded and Lance gently patted her face with the handkerchief.   
"Do you wanna sit up with us?" Christoff lended his hand to her, she took it and he pulled her up slowly while Lance supported her shoulders. While Christoff spoke to Hawkeye in a soft tone, asking what had happened, Lance took the handkerchief and began stuffing it in the ceiling to plug the flow of water. 

“Did something happen?”

Riza, finally starting to wake from her numb state, sighed heavily and put a hand to her face. "Kind of..."

"What happened?" Lance asked cautiously.

She took a moment to breathe before explaining to them a brief summary of the events that had transpired. Christoff shook his head, huffing in frustration. “What monsters…”

Lance patted Hawkeye’s shoulder, “They won’t get away with this. These things can’t continue to happen.”

Hawkeye took a deep breath, 'He is right. We must find a way out.'

Lance gave her a smile, "I’m sorry that happened to you. We’re gonna get out of here, and we’ll be with you every step of the way."

Christoff nodded in agreement and nudged her arm reassuringly. Riza cracked a small smile, they really did remind her of the men on her team back at home.

The door of the barrack opened and Officer Marcon walked in with a scowl. He cleared his throat and tapped his foot. "Where's your respect, soldiers?" 

The three of them matched his expression and slowly slid off the bunks into a salute. Riza's knees still felt weak and the ache of her muscles rushed back to her.

"That's better. The three of you have jobs to do tonight. Lance you're on latrine duty, Christoff you have kitchen duty...and Hawkeye..." He looked her in the eye with a sneer, "You have nightwatch."

Nightwatch, almost as bad as latrine duty. Standing out on the balconies and watchtowers in the freezing night air in a worn out jacket and some poor, tattered gloves. Riza dreaded the task, but at least she got to hold a gun. She felt a little safer that way. After Marcon exited the room, Lance scratched his head and sighed. He looked at Riza with a reassuring smile.

"Good luck out there, Hawkeye."

"And if you need anything, come find me in the kitchen." Christoff smiled and said confidently. 

Riza nodded and thanked them before the three split off to their respective chores.

Nightwatch, 11:00pm  
Riza breathed into her gloved hands, rubbing them, attempting to motivate her blood to circulate. She felt the weight of the rifle on her back, unfortunately there was no point, as they weren't allowed any ammunition. 'How genius of them not to give us any way to fight them.' The wind whipped her skin, it was icy and sharp even under a hood. Riza looked out across the snowy wasteland, nothing but rolling hills of snow and pine trees, an entire mountain on the other side. Her stomach pained from lack of nutrients and she could feel a bruise forming on her temple where General Boeller had hit her. Hawkeye twisted to look over her shoulder, a sharp pain erupting from her rib. 'Perhaps it's broken?' 

She watched her breath make small clouds in the air, fading into the sky which was, to much surprise, a clear night full of stars. They sparkled across the black, stretching out above the mountain and far beyond. Had it been any other situation, Riza would have considered it beautiful. A small tap on her shoulder startled her. Patrick smiled at her with his hands in his coat pocket, his face was stinging red from the cold. 

"Hey Hawkeye," he leaned in a little closer, "I heard that you had a rough time earlier..." 

“How did you know?” Riza asked quietly.

Patrick's soft expression gave her some comfort, “Christoff told me on the way to his shift at the kitchen…” He looked around quickly before whispering. "I have something for ya." He pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor, handing it to her, "Now I'm not sayin' this solves every problem but..." he chuckled, a small gleam in his eye, "...life is too short."

Riza watched him as he spoke, looking at the amber liquid and thinking, 'How can he sound so optimistic?'

"How did you even manage to get this?" She whispered.

Patrick beamed and stood close so their shoulders touched, concealing their secret from any passerby, "Well when you get stuck cleaning the General's office you see a lot of things."

Hawkeye grimaced and asked in a hushed tone, "You stole this from the General's office?"

"Don't worry," Patrick shook his hands in a defense, still beaming. "He has millions of them! I’m sure that he won't even notice. Now..." he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, "You just lean up against my back and I'll lean against yours, that way we both have each other’s backs." 

Hawkeye and Patrick leaned back to back while keeping an eye out for any nearby officers. She quickly took a swig of the liquor, letting it burn her throat all the way down until she felt warm all over. She passed the tiny bottle to Patrick, who took a sip from it and sighed.

"So? How did you get here?"

Riza blinked. "On the trucks?"

Patrick chuckled, "No, I mean how did you get here? Like, what's your story?"

"Oh..." Hawkeye took the bottle back and sipped, "It's...not important. I'm a nobody."

"I don't think you're a nobody. Your name sounds familiar anyway. Where were you stationed before?"

Hawkeye thought for a moment, uncertain she wanted to give her story out. 

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know that sometimes it can be a sensitive subject." Patrick looked up into the sky, "I don't know how much it matters, but I have never fought in a battle before..." Riza was taken aback, turning to him with a concerned look. 

"Yep..." he smiled at her, "I was actually just an architect for the military. I was hired to work on construction projects for the command centers...I was never supposed to be placed in combat, hell, I'd never even held a gun before."

"You were only an architect?" Riza inquired.

"Yeah..." Patrick shrugged, "Most of the placements here were chosen at random, and I had to keep my job so I didn't have much of a choice. But my motto is, that no matter how terrible something may seem there is always something good to come out of it."

After a few moments of silence, Riza asked in a whisper, "How do you stay so optimistic?"

Patrick looked at her, reading her suddenly tired expression, "Well I guess because...if I didn't...I wouldn't be able to face my family again." Riza looked at him, he looked back up at the sky and continued, "My family is my everything-now I know that sounds sappy, but they are. I want my children to know that if they keep fighting and do the right thing, everything will be okay in the end." 

Riza thought over what he said as she clutched her jacket. "You have children?"

Patrick suddenly beamed again, "Yes! Two beautiful kids and my wife too, man, I don't know what I'd do without her. She's amazing, and my kids-I have a son and a daughter. My daughter is so smart, and my son is so compassionate, they both have such great imaginations. I miss them..."

Riza smiled at his exuberance, 'He reminds me of Hughes right now...' 

Patrick continued, chattering away about his family, "...I've tried to send them so many letters over the past few weeks but they won't let me and there aren’t any phones I can use. I can't wait to get back and know how they are doing..." 

Riza started drifting into her own mind, wondering about the idea of family. She had never had much of one growing up and had always come to the conclusion that the family lifestyle wouldn't suit her. Patrick snapped Hawkeye out her thoughts when he asked her the compelling question.

"What about your family? Got any folks back home?" He was still cheery somehow through the bitter cold. Riza stared for a moment, mouth slightly agape before she stuttered and crossed her arms in a tight embrace around herself, hiding from the cold and the question.

"U-Uhm...I don't really have much of one..."

"Oh," Patrick responded with a hand on Riza's shoulder, "Well hey don't worry I got plenty of family to go around, take some of mine!" He chuckled when she hid a small smile. Patrick pondered then asked cautiously, "Pardon me for asking but...were you an orphan?" 

Riza shook her head, "No..." she thought for a moment, and Riza found herself continuing to speak, "My mother died when I was young, and my Father was pretty distant. I didn't have many others in my life before the military."

"I see." Patrick watched her expression suddenly change as she looked up to the sky.

“When I joined the military, I met some people who have really shaped me as a person, and even though I don’t really deserve them…” Riza smiled , “...they have become my family.”

In her mind she saw faces of her friends, Havoc and Furey, Falman and Breda, Rebecca, the Elric Brothers, Armstrong, Hughes, and of course, Roy Mustang. 

Patrick nodded in response until noticing her expression had changed again, sadder than before, "They don't even know I'm here..." 

"What do you mean?" Patrick looked at her in surprise.

Riza shivered, "Nothing...anyways, it's cold out here, I need to get out of this fort."

"Me too, I have to get back to my children...alive." Patrick and Riza leaned their backs together again, looking out over the brisk winter night. That night, Hawkeye made a promise to Patrick and he promised something in return. She would keep him alive if he would help her escape the fort.

The next day  
Riza passed Keller's office on the way back from nightwatch, she caught his eye which halted her to a stop. She ran up to the window where he sat at his desk with a bandage wrapped around his head, partially covering his eye. He looked up at her and mumbled something in frustration.

"Keller...what happened-?" 

"You should know." He scowled, "You were there..."

Riza shook her head before recalling the incident in the General's office, "He did that...to you?" 

Guilt swelled in her chest, Riza had been so scared she hadn’t even thought as to whether he was okay or not. The memory was still so fresh, she didn’t even want to be in this part of the fort and wanted to avoid General Boeller at all cost.

"Please go away before you cause anymore trouble for me. I can't keep risking my life because you want to play rebel and break into the telegraph machine." He pleaded before turning away from her.

She looked down, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach, barely making out a whisper, "I'm sorry..." 

1 week later  
Hawkeye wiped her cheek with her arm in a failed attempt to remove the oil splatter from it. The soldiers had been assigned more work focused in assembling tanks and artillery. Food and sleep were scarce and the General had overturned most of the delegation of tasks to the lower officers, many of whom cracked the whip even harder in attempts to please the General. Boeller and his closest officers were content to stay in their comfy offices, eating to their heart's content and enjoyed watching the soldiers struggle to keep up with the demanding workload.

Riza nailed another piece of metal onto the tank she was building, the hammer felt like two tons in her gloved hand. Her grey uniform was stained with oil and her hair was falling out of it's already messy bun. Riza's body was weak, and her uniform now hung loose enough for her to roll up the sleeves and pant legs while she worked. 'I must have lost some weight...' she thought, 'it’s not hard to believe...how long have I even been here?' Ever since the incident with the General, Hawkeye had started to lose track of the days. Though very unlike her, she knew it was hard to keep track in a place like this. 

Hawkeye finished nailing another metal slab onto the frame of the tank, she looked over the wide expanse of the main hall where other tanks were being assembled. Heavy machines were shooting out sheets of metal, it’s gears were loud and forever grinding. She watched her fellow soldiers walking sluggishly, all exhausted from these endless shifts. 

Lance looked at her from the other side of the tank they were currently on, he whispered, "We've got to get a plan moving soon..."

"We just have to wait for the right time..." she replied.

Patrick popped his head up from the controls to listen in on their conversation.

Lance nodded, "We need to-"

A blood-curdling scream cut through the air, coming from a nearby machine. Riza whipped around to see a soldier with his hand caught in the rotator of a machine, ripping his flesh and pulling his arm in further. Another soldier hit the off switch but the rotators did not stop. Hawkeye leapt off her tank and grabbed a spare lever, stabbing it into the machine and jamming the gears. Lance and Patrick followed her and used their hands to pry open the no longer rotating piece, Riza swung back around and pulled the soldier out, his arm bleeding profusely and ripped up nearly to the bone. He wasn't screaming anymore but was taking short, labored breaths and quietly wailing. Riza helped lower the soldier to the ground as others gathered around. Lance began to wrap up the injured arm with a rag and try to calm him. A superior officer pushed through the crowd and leaned over to take in the situation, he looked at the injured soldier then at the broken machine, his face turning red with anger.

"Look what you've done, you moron!" The superior officer landed a swift kick to the injured soldier's ribs.

Lance stood and put a hand up, desperation in his voice. "Stop! Can't you see he's hurt?" 

The superior officer shoved Lance backwards. "I don't care! He ruined an expensive machine, this soldier will receive punishment!"

Angry mumbles and shouts from the crowd erupted, "You can't do that!" "He's hurt!" "It was an accident!"

Lance glared at the officer, "I'll take the punishment."

"What?" Riza's eyes widened, standing up by Lance, "No, it wasn't you-"

He stopped her. "It's fine." Lance turned back to the superior officer. "I broke the machine, I stuck the lever into the gears."

Another officer came and grabbed Lance by the arm, ready to escort him away. The superior officer cleared his throat, a smirk spreading across his face. "Someone get this injured man to the infirmary, and as for the rest of you worthless worms...", he looked at Riza and Patrick who were kneeling by the bleeding soldier, "...today's workload has been doubled due to today's...incident..." He quickly turned on his heel, with much indifference to the crowd's reaction. 

The next few minutes happened so quickly, Hawkeye wasn't even sure if she had fully processed it. A soldier, by the name of Sulan, broke from the masses and with a running start swung a wrench right into the top of the superior officer's skull. He crumpled and before Sulan could move, his head jerked to the side roughly from the force of a bullet. The shot had come from above, from an officer standing on the top of a stairwell in the corner of the hall. 

In seconds, the soldiers began to scramble for cover as bullets rained down from the officers on stairwells and balconies. Riza and Patrick ducked and pulled the injured soldier underneath the unfinished frame of a tank. The gunfire was deafening, bullets clanking against metal and bouncing off in every direction. 

Finally, the gunfire and noise ceased, the smell of gunpowder filled the stifling air of the main hall. Riza released the breath she didn’t know she was holding, watching Patrick's frightened look while he held the wounded soldier. She slowly turned and knelt by an opening, attempting to assess the situation. It was dead silent and she could see nothing from her angle, just empty space between her tank and another. When she leaned farther to look, a soldier fell suddenly into the empty space with a loud thud, his face contorted in pain yet unmoving, dead. The thud and the sudden face made her jump back violently, catching a scream in her throat. Patrick reached an arm out to catch her before she hit the cement, they both were shaking from the adrenaline. 

A loud voice echoed across the room, a very familiar voice that sent a chill down Riza's spine.

"Come out from hiding, you pathetic excuse for soldiers. For those of you still alive, stand up or you'll be in an even bigger world of hurt." General Boeller’s voice held a hint of amusement, making Hawkeye sick. "Come out now, we'll count the dead and if you follow orders you will be spared." 

A shuffling was heard throughout the room as soldiers began to stand from fetal positions and hiding places, some holding injuries or being assisted by others. Bodies lay sprawled out over the cement, at least half the soldiers in the main hall had been mowed down by bullets. Riza and Patrick crawled out from underneath the tank and looked up at the balcony where the General stood, he smirked at them.

"You have put yourselves in quite a heap of trouble, you understand?" He looked out amongst the room of bloody soldiers, carrying on as calm as could be. Riza leaned on Patrick, both of them trembling and trying to steady each other. She looked around and saw Lance in the corner of the room, slowly getting up. ‘Good, he’s still alive.’

General Boeller tapped the iron railing with a rifle to get their attention again. "There is a new order. An order that you follow or die. Simple as that. This shit will not, and I repeat, will not happen again. Welcome to the rest of your miserable, pathetic lives." 

1 week later  
Riza woke up the sound of the barrack door swinging open and banging against the wall. Their floor monitor, Officer Marcon yelled in his gruff voice, "Up and at 'em, you bastards. No breakfast today. Shower then down to the main hall for work." 

The men in the barracks stirred and rolled out of their bunks, grabbing their uniforms which were still stained with blood from the massacre a week before. It served as a grim reminder. And soldiers that had gone to the infirmary after that incident never came back. 

Riza hit the showers, shivering as she undressed quickly and slunk under the scalding water. The heat was nearly unbearable but she had felt worse. Most soldiers would have stood in the water for maybe a minute but she grew complacent. Looking down at her own body and barely recognizing it, she touched the bruises that stained her skin and the cuts from the sheet metal. Her hands were calloused and sore, every part of her ached and begged for rest.

As Riza examined herself, the water reddening her skin, she sighed. 'Even if I somehow do make it out...how can I go back to Mustang like this?' 

It had been officially a month since she left, and today should've been the day she returned to Central. Her plan had been risky but she never thought something like this would hinder her. What would he do if she did not return on time? 'Would he look for me? File a missing person? Or maybe...he forgot all about me...' Riza leaned on the wall of the shower, trying to hold in a sob. 'Stop...I can't think like that...'

A soldier’s voice brought her back to reality, "Hey! Move it! It's my turn for the shower!"

Riza reluctantly shut the water off and dressed, exiting the showers and heading down the hall towards Keller’s desk. He no longer had a bandage on his face and she could now clearly see the bruise and gash that sat above his eye, still purple and swollen. Hawkeye approached the desk and made an attempt.

“Hey...I am really sorry, but I wanted to thank you for what you did.” 

He didn't look at her. She felt a surge of anger. 

“Look,” She shook her head, “I am really thankful. I won’t ask you to save me again, but I do need your help. I want to help you.”

Keller turned and stared at her, his mouth agape and he choked on his words, "I...I don't think you know what you're getting into-"

"I do know." Riza stated boldly, "I am coming up with a plan." 

Keller put his face in his hand and sighed, "You're an idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't you understand?" He leaned over the desk and beckoned her closer, speaking in a hushed tone. "Don't you know anything about rebellion? You can't talk so loudly, my god, you're absolutely reckless." Hawkeye just stared at him, he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "...how can I help?" 

She cracked a small smile, "We are breaking out of here."


	7. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I wrote this chapter quickly because I was too excited to wait so here you go! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it! :)

Chapter 7: Escape

Central Command Center, 8:00 am  
General Roy Mustang walked up the main stairs to the command center. The morning air was chilly but he didn't mind, after all, it was an exciting day. His calendar had marks on the days leading up to his Lieutenant's return, today’s date was circled. Roy was almost giddy. He had refrained, with much struggle, not to search for a number to reach her. She deserved the time away, but that didn't mean he didn't miss her every minute of the workday and then some. 

Mustang strode down the hallway towards the stairwell, thinking to himself, 'I haven’t heard from her yet, I hope her travel went smoothly.' Although he assured himself that if there had been any complications, Hawkeye would have called. She would be there, sitting in the office at her desk as usual, and he would greet her and the rest of his men. He would congratulate her on a safe return and perhaps, they would have lunch and she could discuss the distant relative and her trip to the East. It would be simple, he knew, but he just couldn't wait to see her face. 

As he walked towards the office, his heart sank. Furey and Falman were standing outside making small talk. Havoc leaned against the wall with a lit cigarette and Breda was shrugging on his military jacket as he did every morning. 

"Hey Chief, how's the mornin?" Havoc lifted an eyebrow, noticing his General's suddenly sour mood. 

"Fine." Mustang replied as he pulled out the office key, "Not open yet?"

"No, Sir." Havoc grinned, "You're the one with the key?" 

Mustang opened the door and flicked on the light. "I'm not the only one."

"Ohhh," Havoc snickered, "I get it."

Furey smiled as he sat at his desk, "Don't worry, General, it would be her first day back. She's probably just late."

"For the first time?" Falman inquired, only to be nudged by Breda.

"Not helping, Falman."

Mustang slid into his chair, "I'm sure she is, it's fine. Hawkeye can take her time."

The other men glanced at each other, stifling their laughter and grins at their superior's bitter tone. It had been a long month without Lieutenant Hawkeye and Mustang had been depressed ever since she left. It would be nice to have both of them back. 

The day began to tick by as they started their work, one hour passed. Confusion set in on Mustang. Then two hours passed, now he was anxious and obnoxiously checking the date on the calendar, all the while keeping an eye on the clock. Finally lunch time arrived and the men stood, ready to head down to the mess hall. 

Havoc stood and turned to Mustang, "You comin'? "

Mustang, lost in thought, was staring at the calendar again. Every day for the past month was crossed off and today's date was circled multiple times. Havoc, Furey, Breda and Falman all gathered behind him to peer at it over Roy's shoulder. After a moment, Mustang snapped back into the real world and whipped around to face his men with such force that it sent them flying backwards.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mustang commanded.

"Sorry General," Furey spoke gently, "We were just wondering...w-well...we, um..."

Falman stopped the Sargent's stuttering, "We just meant to say that we noticed your obsession-" He paused with a nudge in his side from Breda, "I mean-your very reasonable concern for the First Lieutenant's lack of attendance."

Mustang sighed, "Perhaps I have been overthinking it. Maybe her train was just delayed..."

The men replied in various stages of nervous agreement before they all made their way to lunch. While the troop discussed small talk such as news and interest in women, Mustang still let his mind wander to his adjutant. 'Please come back safe...' he tried to reassure himself, but there was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, something didn’t feel right.

Fort Windsor, the next day, 3:00pm  
Hawkeye held herself up with one hand on the wall of the hallway and held her stomach with the other. She trembled as her body dry heaved, since there was nothing in her stomach to throw up. She leaned against the wall until she felt well enough to continue walking. 

Lifting heavy materials such as machinery, weapons and other various cargo and carrying it through the main hall into organized piles was intensive. With hardly any food or water in days, the soldiers were being worked in 12 hour shifts around the clock. Soldiers were no longer allowed to hold guns, not even on nightwatch, a new rule that General Boeller had enacted after yesterday’s incident in the main hall. 'They really are taking every precaution to prevent another riot...' Riza thought, 'And they are keeping us weak...'

Hawkeye climbed the stairwell despite every muscle in her body screaming to rest. It was only the afternoon but Riza had been up for almost twenty four hours and all she could think about was sleep and getting the hell out of this fort. She knocked on her barrack door, twice, to alert the men inside that it was her and not an officer. 

Lance, with a fresh bruise on his forehead, was kneeling on the ground next to Patrick and Christoff who were looking over a map of the fort. 

"You look like hell," Lance barely managed a smirk through his exhaustion. 

Riza nearly collapsed as she sat on the ground, rubbing her aching arms and legs, "I could say the same about you."

Patrick adjusted his broken glasses, "With Keller's help we now have a detailed map of the fort..." He gave Riza a big smile, "...one including a map of all the secret ways that lead to the outside.."

"Damn..." Riza sighed, "Incredible."

Christoff circled all of the possible exits and routes to take, they conversed over all back up plans in case routes needed to be changed in a hurry. Lance looked at him, "Man, Christoff, I knew you used to work in strategies but I'm still impressed."

"Thank you." Christoff circled one last exit on their decided route before looking up at them, "Now, we all made sure to switch shifts to work in the latrine department, right?"

The three nodded as Christoff continued, "We clean until we get to the fifth level, we sneak down this passage and into the kitchen which should be empty. Once there, we take the food service elevator one by one, and head down until we reach the control center. If all has stayed quiet, we take our time and go through this hallway while watching for guards on the floors. This way leads to the pipe room and drops down into the sewer pipes, which lead to the outside. Once we make it out..." Christoff looked at Riza, Patrick, and Lance with a stoic face, "...we run. We run until we reach the Northern Command Center."

Hawkeye bit her lip, "But wouldn't it be faster and a lot less distance to cover if we went for Briggs?"

"Yeah," Lance pointed to the map, "The way to the Northern Command Center is a lot more populated and less coverage. They could catch up to us."

Christoff shook his head and pulled out a map of the area, "The only way to get to Briggs is to pass by this abandoned outpost and travel through a canyon in between the mountains. At this time of year it’s far too dangerous and it’s in the opposite direction of North City.”

They all nodded in agreement, but Riza felt uneasy. Briggs had always been the go-to plan for her, she had someone she could trust there. The Northern Command Center was foreign to her, and she would surely be exposed for forging documents. ‘I suppose survival is more important right now…’ Riza consoled herself.

Lance ran his fingers through his hair, "So this is it then? We either see a free tomorrow...or we die."

Hawkeye nodded, "So don't die."

"Excuse me?" Christoff chuckled.

"Don't die. That's an order." Riza almost smiled, the same words uttered by Mustang not too long ago. 

Patrick laughed, as he put away the map in a special hiding place. "We can only do our best, Hawkeye." He sat back down on the ground next to them, "I wanna see my family again."

Christoff put a hand on Patrick's shoulder, "We all do. That's why we keep fight-"

The door slammed open, startling the exhausted soldiers. Officer Marcon, the floor monitor, stood in the doorway looking as disgruntled as ever. 

"What are you worthless wastes doing sitting around for? Don't you all have work to be doing?" 

The four soldiers stayed silent and waited. 

"Where's your respect?" Marcon bellowed, making the soldiers stand and salute with their aching bodies. "That's better. Now, off to your duties!" Marcon turned to walk out, then turned back and glared at Christoff. "Christoff Wallace, come with me." 

"What for, Sir?" Christoff asked, his brows furrowed.

"You don't get to ask questions around here. Now follow me, or else." Marcon demanded.

Christoff nodded to Hawkeye, Lance, and Patrick, and mouthed “See you tonight”. He followed Marcon out and shut the door behind them. 

Lance, Patrick and Riza looked at each other, confused. 

"Where do you think he’s taking him?" Patrick wondered.

"I don't know, but I hope he's back in time. Every move we make is time sensitive." Lance sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Riza nodded again, biting her lip. 'Why do I have a bad feeling about this...'

A few hours later, 10pm   
Riza finished cleaning the tables in the mess hall. Patrick threw away the wet rags and caught her eye, neither of them had slept in over 30 hours, but they couldn't let that stop them. Lance cracked open the door to signal them to leave. Patrick and Riza walked out of the mess hall and the three set off towards their barracks.

"Has anyone seen Christoff?" Patrick asked in a hushed whisper, "We need to find him before we make our move." 

"I know." Lance grimaced, "I hope he's okay."

Riza whispered back, "Maybe he’s waiting for us in the barracks already?"

They walked briskly down the hall, reaching their door. Christoff was inside, lying in his bunk with his back turned to them.

Shutting the door quickly, Lance sighed in relief. "Thank god you're here, we were worried about y-" His sentence halted as they witnessed Christoff trembling violently.

Hawkeye came over to his side and kneeled by his bunk, gently reaching a hand to his shoulder. "Christoff...?"

He continued to tremble and shrugged her hand away, curling deeper into himself and whispering through labored breaths, "Just go..."

Lance grabbed Christoff's bag from under his bunk, "We are going, and you're coming with us."

Christoff shuddered and shook his head, his eyes were shut tight. Hawkeye gently rubbed his shoulder, "What happened?"

Christoff rolled over to face them, keeping his eyes closed. Through a sob, he muttered, "Just go! I can't-I can't..."

"Christoff!" Lance shook his shoulders more roughly, "What are you talking about? Get up!"

Patrick, who was keeping an eye on the hallway from behind the door, called to them in a hushed voice, "We need to be ready, the guards are about to go on a break."

"Christoff!" Lance shook him again.

"They are leaving. We have two minutes." Patrick whispered.

"Christoff! Please!" Lance's voice was laced with desperation, "I'm not leaving you behind."

"We need to leave." said Patrick.

Hawkeye and Lance both shook him, finally Christoff opened his bloodshot eyes. Riza noticed the red circle marks on his face and neck, he even had a few on his arms and hands. His lip quivered as he shuddered again. "I c-can't. I can't- please just go!"

"We need to leave! Now!" Patrick whispered even quicker.

"No." Lance tried to pull Christoff off the bunk, with no luck. "No. N-No I'm not leaving you, we are doing this together!"

"We can't wait anymore! We either go now or not at all!" Patrick whispered urgently.

Riza knew this would be their only shot, they couldn't take any more labor, they would be too weak to wait. She grabbed her pack and Lance's too, pulling on Lance. "Let's go."

"No!" Lance's eyes began to well up with tears.

"Lance! We have to!" Patrick started to tear up, whispering harshly. "It's now or never!" 

Riza pulled Lance up from the edge of the bunk, Christoff curled up again, away from them and into quiet sobs.

Patrick opened the door and closed it behind Hawkeye and Lance, the three sprinting down the hallway. They made it past the corner before the guards returned from break. Riza stopped at the supply closet and grabbed their buckets and scrub brushes for latrine duty, dividing the supplies amongst them. They cleaned the latrines on the first floor, then the second and so on until reaching their final destination, the latrines on the fifth floor. Patrick shoved their packs in a cabinet while Hawkeye and Lance scrubbed the tile. They cleaned and waited until the disinterested officer who had come to watch over the latrine duty decided to take a nap, which was what this officer in particular was well known for. Everything now was going according to plan.

Patrick watched the officer and once he was asleep, he signaled Riza and Lance. They grabbed the small bags from the cabinet and headed towards a secret door on the back wall of the latrine. Lance opened it and snow immediately flurried inside along with a howling, bone-chilling wind. They shivered and stepped out onto a ledge that was only a few feet wide before a total drop into the snowy abyss with no railing. Lance looked back to Patrick.

"I thought Christoff said this was an old hallway?" 

"I thought so too!" Patrick called to him over the sound of the roaring wind, "They must have taken it apart or something! Maybe we should turn back?"

Just then, the door was slammed shut by the wind. Lance tried to pry it open, but it was sealed tight.

"Damnit!" Lance hit the door in anger. They flattened themselves against the wall of the fort, trapped outside and five, tall stories up. It was impossible to see the ground with the blizzard, but they knew it would be fatal if they fell, and staying on the narrow ledge would prove difficult in this weather.

"We have to keep going!" Patrick yelled, looking over the two to find a path. "It looks like we can still get to the kitchen from this ledge!"

Lance looked at him in shock, "You're telling me we have to walk across this thing?"

Patrick looked back at the door, "We don't have much of a choice! It's either that or..."

"Jump...?" Lance looked down, trying to see through the blizzard. 

"Let's go!" Hawkeye grabbed both of their shoulders to lower them into a crouched position. "Kneel and crawl as best you can! It's too narrow and slippery to try and walk!"

The three began the perilous venture, every minute the wind got stronger and threatened to blow them off the ledge. Patrick’s knee slipped on a patch of ice and he hung with half his body off the ledge, Hawkeye managed to grab his jacket in time and pulled him back to safety. What only took minutes felt like hours, and the cold was biting through their jackets and gloves, making it harder to grip. Hawkeye was starting to feel numb in her fingers, 'We have got to get inside soon...the weather is too dangerous at this height.'

Lance reached the door to the kitchen first, it was a smaller, square door with a lock on it. 

"How are we gonna get in?" Lance exclaimed, "It's locked!" 

Patrick adjusted his glasses, hardly able to see with all the snowflakes caking the lenses. "It looks rusty! Maybe we can break it?"

Hawkeye put her hands on the lock, "I can pull it! I just need you two to catch me!"

"Right!" The two men said in unison, preparing their positions to catch her from falling off the ledge. Hawkeye put her feet on either side of the door, grasping the lock tightly and pulled with all her strength. Finally the metal snapped and Hawkeye was flung backwards, right into their arms.

Lance opened it slowly, revealing the dark kitchen, and let Hawkeye in first. She poked her head inside, seeing the door was located slightly above a collection of crates. The floor was littered with pots and pans and boxes. She gently stepped down onto a crate and then onto the floor. Lance followed and turned to help Patrick through the door.

Hawkeye tiptoed around the various boxes and accidentally kicked a pot, cringing as it rolled away from her. Lance and Patrick were frozen only halfway through the door, and Hawkeye saw the form of a sleeping figure right where the pot was rolling to. It clattered to a stop right in front of whoever was sleeping in a cot on the ground. ‘There isn’t supposed to be anyone in here.’ 

They waited and nothing in the room moved for minutes. Hawkeye finally let herself breathe and looked back at Lance and Patrick, signaling for them to continue. The three soldiers split up to search around the dark room, having never been allowed in the kitchen before they had no idea where the door to the service elevator was. 

'I just hope it's not another ledge', she thought.

"Pssst..." Lance made a waving motion to Hawkeye once he had found the elevator, he and Patrick were standing next to it but she quickly realized she was on the other side of the room. She slowly stepped around anything that could make a loud noise, her eyes watched the sleeping figure carefully, 'Who was that anyway? And why is he sleeping in the kitchen?' she thought. 

Hawkeye stepped her boot softly onto the tile near the figure's head, when without warning a hand grabbed her ankle roughly and caused her to fall face first into a pile of boxes. As the sleeping figure rose from his bed, Patrick found a lightswitch and flicked on a nearby light. It was the gruff soldier who worked in the kitchen.

“Shit…” Riza grimaced, so much for being incognito.

"What do you think you're doin in here you, scum!" Lance and Patrick ran to help Riza up, only to be kept back by the angry soldier swinging a pot around wildly. Hawkeye kicked a crate in front of him, making him trip and fall amongst the clutter. 'Damnit! We're making too much noise!' 

As if he read her mind, Lance took the opportunity to tackle the soldier when he began to rise, and Patrick took a pan to his head. The gruff soldier went down and hard with a loud thud, passed out amongst strewn foods and cooking equipment. 

"This isn’t good." Lance whispered, "We need to leave before he wakes up and alerts someone." The soldiers ran to the small service elevator, a box barely large enough for anyone to squeeze themselves into. Hawkeye worried that she might not fit, let alone either of the men. 

"Should we tie him up?" Patrick suggested worriedly, looking back at the gruff soldier.

"We don't have time! Now get in!" Lance helped stuff Patrick inside the boxlike elevator, barely big enough to fit him in a sitting position. Hawkeye and Lance started cranking the ropes to lower Patrick down the shaft. Hawkeye felt her muscles straining with every tug, she had to clench her teeth in order to move through the pain. 

Once they heard the service elevator hit the bottom, Hawkeye and Lance peered down into the abyss of black, waiting for Patrick's signal. The room was silent except for the breathing of the two soldiers. Three taps were heard on the metal pipe. Lance nodded at Hawkeye, who shook her head and motioned for him to get in. After a moment of hesitation, Lance stuffed himself inside the small elevator that they had reeled up. Riza tugged at the ropes, lowering him down as gently as possible while her body ached. She dug her boots into the ground and braced herself with her leg against the wall. As the elevator neared the target level, Hawkeye was suddenly ripped from her grip on the ropes by a pair of rough hands. She yelped in surprise and pain as the ropes burned her palms and she was thrown down hard onto the tile floor. Riza cringed at the sound of the elevator hitting the target level unceremoniously, but her focus shifted back to the gruff soldier who was now awake again and livid. 

He grabbed her by the uniform, ignoring her punches and kicks. He only reacted when her nails drew blood from his skin and the gruff soldier tossed her against the nearby wall, letting her land on a cluster of crates. Riza, now bruised and bleeding from her lip, grabbed a piece of wood from a broken crate and used it to defend herself. He ran at her and she swung, knocking him hard into the stove, denting from the gruff soldier’s weight.

Riza made a dash for the elevator, reeling it back up to her level. She climbed into the elevator, fitting enough until the gruff soldier’s hands grabbed her leg and tried to pull her out. His fingers dug into her calf, increasing in pressure. Hawkeye managed to hold onto a steel bar attached to the elevator, her fingers growing weaker. Her vision was becoming blurry, and she breathed in what little she could before taking one hand off the bar and tapping three times. The elevator started to move and in a last ditch effort, she gave a swift kick to the gruff soldier's face, breaking something with no time to find out what. The force had folded her inside the elevator at an odd angle, scraping her arm and leg. When the service elevator hit the bottom level, she rolled out and landed on a dirty cement floor, wheezing and coughing from the dust.

Lance and Patrick helped her up, grabbing the three bags and running. Riza knew she had no time to catch her breath, she had to muscle through, this was their only chance. They rounded corners swiftly, just the route they had planned. As they expertly dodged another set of officers, a sudden siren blared over a speaker. 

“What’s that?” Patrick covered his ears, the noise was deafening from the echo of the cement hallways. 

Lance grabbed Hawkeye by the sleeve and Patrick by his collar, rushing them down the hallway. They sprinted down a set of stairs and into another corridor of the fort, screeching to a halt when they saw the shadows of guards at the end of it. 

“In here!” Lance shoved them through a nearby door, an empty storage corridor. “One of these leads to the pipe room!”

Hawkeye’s lungs burned, her breath barely slipping in and out of her chapped lips. She was running on pure adrenaline now, solely based on her instinct to survive and to return home. ‘That gruff soldier from the kitchen must have alerted someone about us, we need to get out of here, now.’

Skidding up to the end of the corridor, they flattened themselves against the wall as best they could, letting Lance peek around the corner. He shot back quickly, pushing them back.

“This hallway is crawling with guards!”

“We can’t go back the way we came!” Patrick yelled over the siren. 

Hawkeye looked up, finding a large metal grate in the ceiling. Her eyes widened, whipping around to face the other two, “The vent!”

They all looked up at the grate, then back at each other and nodded. Swinging one of their bags up, they managed to hit the grate open and the lid clattered against the wall loudly, but the three didn’t have time to halt. Hawkeye and Patrick hoisted Lance up into the vent shaft, he then helped Patrick up. The shadows of guards neared the end of the corridor just as Riza was pulled up into the shaft, shutting the grate behind her. It was narrow and cramped in the vent, they were barely able to crawl. 

‘Breathe....breathe...’ Riza thought to herself, waiting for the guards to run past the hallway. Once the coast was clear, they began crawling on their stomachs, slowly at first, but grew more frantic by the minute. The vent duct was beginning to get hot. Riza wiped her brow, which was sticky with sweat, not something easily made in the cold air of the fort. ‘What is going on? Why is it getting so hot?’ She stopped her crawl when she bumped up against Lance, who called up to Patrick.

“Why’d you stop?” He yelled, the panic in his voice rising.

“Smoke!” Patrick coughed, “Go back!” 

“We can’t!” Riza called, seeing the veil of smoke beginning to envelop them, “Keep going! There’s an opening up ahead!” 

The three crawled and coughed through the smoke, hiding their faces in their coats. In a frantic scramble they reached an opening and Patrick busted through it, landing hard on the ground and taking the others with him. The three soldiers landed in a crumpled heap on the floor of a large storage closet, coughing and gasping for breath. 

Riza wiped her face and looked up, her heart dropped straight into her stomach with fright. Standing in front of them, arms crossed was General Boeller, with a smug smile. Behind him was Officer Coleman holding a struggling Keller, bleeding from his nose and lip.

Keller whimpered, “I’m sorry-I...I’m sorry!”

The three soldiers sat frozen on the floor, still gasping for breath. Riza couldn’t hear anything through the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. She looked up at the General, he smiled a bit wider.

“Well, well, well...” The General tapped his foot, “I bet you thought you were pretty smart, I bet you thought you could just waltz right out of here...” He pointed to Keller, “Well I hate to tell you that you lost, especially when your traitorous friend over here tried to smash my head in with a stapler when we started messing with the vents to smoke you out...” The General whistled and gave them a low chuckle, “You are quite the rats...” He leaned in closer to Hawkeye, “And you are about to find out what kind of rats you really are...” 

With a snap of his fingers, four guards came in and grabbed the three soldiers, sitting them upright on their knees. Coleman pushed Keller down into the same position and pulled out a small black rectangle with two prongs on the end. He pointed it straight at Keller’s neck. Suddenly the rectangle buzzed and shot out what looked like blue lightning bolts. Keller shook violently until collapsing to the ground, unconscious. Next was Patrick. Riza struggled against her guard but was not strong enough. Then Lance was struck with the lightning, following suit of the two victims before him. Hawkeye’s mind raced as she watched the rectangle. Now the two prongs stared at her, she was trapped. The blue light blinded her and she felt a searing pain in her neck until her body felt numb. Everything went black.


	8. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry this update took so long! I didn't mean to leave you on a cliffhanger like that but I was unfortunately struck with food poisoning that had me down and out for like four days! But I'm back and almost ready to rumble, but I did want to give you guys...something! It's a small chapter but I'm planning to update the next chapter in the next few days! Thanks again for all your wonderful comments and thanks for reading :)

Chapter 8: Questions

Central Command Center, Two Days Later  
Mustang sat complacent at his desk, a pile of papers lay before him, strewn about in a complete mess. He just stared at the documents before him and tapped his pen in frustration, trying to settle the nervous feeling that had resided in his stomach for the past few days. Hawkeye had yet to return and she had not notified him or any of the men about any sort of delay. ‘This is unlike her...something has got to be wrong...’ 

Suddenly Mustang chucked the pen in aggravation, hitting the door across the room. The eyes of his team watched him carefully, afraid that one word would have a pen sent in their direction. 

“Sir?” Furey asked bravely, “Is everything okay?” He knew that everything was not okay with their General, but someone had to ask.

Mustang just looked at him for a moment, then sighed and put his face in his hands. Havoc signaled the others to approach the General’s desk and stand at attention.

“General Mustang, Sir.” Havoc cleared his throat, “We would like to address an official concern about the First Lieutenant Hawkeye’s absence.”

Roy looked up from his hands, catching their apprehension.

“Sir, if I may?” Falman put his hand down from its respectful salute, “We know you are very concerned about Lieutenant Hawkeye, and we want you to know that you aren’t alone.”

Breda nodded, “There's gotta be something we can do, we need to start somewhere.”

Furey scratched his head, thinking carefully, “What if we checked her apartment? If she’s there we can find out where she’s been.”

Havoc agreed, “Even if Hawkeye isn’t there, we might be able to find clues as to where she might be instead? Breda’s right, we have to start somewhere.”

Looking at his men, Mustang's face hinted at a knowing smile. They cared about Hawkeye too, after all, their unit was like a family. He stood quickly and grabbed his coat.

“Alright then,” Roy nodded at them, “Let’s move out. We’ll start at the apartment first.” 

The men saluted and grabbed their coats, following their fearless leader out the door and to the outside. Taking one military vehicle, Havoc drove down the streets of Central while Mustang directed. After a few blocks, they took a sharp left turn down a cobblestone street, they then reached another block and came to an apartment building. They got out and walked up a set of metal stairs to an indoor hallway, Mustang was ahead of the group by four or five steps. 

Furey leaned over to Havoc, whispering, “How does he know where the Lieutenant lives?”

They passed many doors until Roy finally stopped at one with the number 23 on it. A simple doormat and a little potted plant sat out front. He landed a few knocks on the front door. Silence. He landed a few more knocks. Silence again. Mustang knelt down to the potted plant and reached under its roots, pulling out a little silver key. 

Furey leaned over Havoc again, “How does he know where she keeps her spare key?”

Mustang straightened back up and held up the key, ignoring the Sargent’s question. Sliding the key in with ease and a turn, the door clicked open to reveal a dark hallway. As they made their way inside, Havoc flipped a light on and Mustang called for the Lieutenant a few times. 

“She’s not here.” Havoc said as they all met in the center of the living room. 

“Obviously.” Breda folded his arms and looked around, “So what now?”

The apartment was small and the kitchen and living room were one space. The furniture and accessories were modest at best. There were still a few boxes in some of the corners, never unpacked.

Falman swiped his hand on a side table by a small sofa, leaving a clean streak against a thick layer of dust. “Looks like she never came home? This place looks pretty neglected.”

“Someone has been feeding Hayate though.” Furey picked up a water dish, clean and fresh, and the other bowl still had bits of food in it. 

“See? If Hawkeye isn’t here...then who would have been taking care of-“

Suddenly the sound of the front door opened and a woman appeared quickly from the hallway. “Hands up!”

Rebecca eyed the men, with her gun in one hand and pepper spray in the other. Hayate skidded into the room and barked at them loudly and with warning. The men jumped away from her and the pup, hands on the defense and everyone stood in solid confusion for a moment.

Rebecca groaned in annoyance, “Damnit! You all scared the hell out of me!”

“No one could scare the ‘hell’ out of you, Lieutenant Catalina...” Havoc snickered.

“Oh shut up, Havoc.” Rebecca lowered her weapons, “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were going to ask you the same thing.” Mustang stepped forward, “Have you been taking care of Hayate?”

Rebecca nodded, “Yeah, Riza asked me if I could while she was away?”

“I thought you were stationed in the East still?”

“I am,” Rebecca set down her purse on the coffee table, “I picked up Hayate a month ago and brought him back to the East with me. I came back to Central last night because Riza never answered my call to let me know she was home.” 

“Damnit,” Roy muttered, “I thought she would have told you something, contacted you somehow?”

“I thought she would have contacted you?” Rebecca responded, crossing her arms. “I don’t mind watching Hayate, I’m just worried about Riza...It’s been three days, I thought she would have been here when I arrived...this just isn’t like her.”

Furey picked up Hayate, petting his head, “I really hope she is alright...”

Falman scratched his chin, “So she hasn’t been home and she hasn’t contacted any of us...But where would she have gone?”

“Lieutenant Catalina,” Mustang looked at her again, “Did she tell you anything about where she was going?”

Rebecca shook her head, “Not much, only that she had a sick relative in the East. Though I couldn’t recall her ever mentioning them before.”

Roy nodded, “Right, exactly what she told me. I don’t remember her having hardly any relatives at all.”

“Are you saying she lied?” Havoc chewed his lip, in place of his usual cigarette.

Mustang folded his arms, “I don’t know, but something doesn’t make sense, and I want to know what it is.”

“Should we look around? Maybe she left a receipt for a train ticket.” Breda inquired.

General Mustang barked out orders, “Breda, Falman, you two go to the station and check the train records for the day that Hawkeye left.” He turned to the others, “Furey, you go to the military vaults and check on Hawkeye’s bank account.” He looked at Havoc and Rebecca, “You two help me search this apartment for...”

Havoc raised an eyebrow, “...for?”

Mustang looked at him for a moment, “...for something...anything...”

The crew set out on their assigned tasks, Breda and Falman headed to the train station while Furey headed towards the military bank. At the apartment, Rebecca started her search by looking through Riza’s room. Havoc searched through all the leftover mail and any papers left in the kitchen. Mustang went through a few piles of papers in the living room, searching through drawers and things on the bookcase. 

Roy approached the mantle above a small fireplace, he hadn’t noticed it before but there were some framed pictures placed there. The first one he picked up was a picture of Hayate, then one of Riza standing with Rebecca and Maria at last year's Christmas party. Another frame was placed on the other end of the mantle, it was in a plain wooden frame with a picture of the team inside. Havoc and Breda were holding onto a smiling, but slightly anxious looking Furey. Falman stood behind them with his arms crossed. Roy stood next to them, laughing with Riza was standing beside him like she always did, holding Hayate and watching the men with a smile.

His heart ached. ‘Where are you, Hawkeye...?’

“Nothing to report, Sir.” Havoc entered the room again, “Nothing in the mail but junk and nothing in the kitchen, no note or anything.”

Rebecca joined them, “Same to report, nothing out of the ordinary. I couldn’t find anything but an address book-“

“An address book?” Mustang and Havoc questioned in unison.

“That could be something!” Havoc said, “Does it have any family addresses? Maybe that sick relative?”

Rebecca handed Mustang the book with a shake of her head, “Sorry, but I already checked and...”

“And?” Mustang opened the book.

“There’s only four addresses in the book.” Rebecca continued, “Her old home address in the East, the address of Fuhrer Grumman, my apartment in East City and the last one is here in Central...”

“Mine.” Mustang skimmed a finger over Hawkeye’s handwriting.

“Damn...” Havoc sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Maybe she doesn’t have a sick relative afterall?”

“I don’t think she would lie, but if she did, why? And why would she just disappear? It doesn't make any sense.” Rebecca picked up a whimpering Hayate, consoling the pup. 

“We’ve done as much speculating as we can,” Mustang said, “Let’s meet up with the team and see if they’ve found anything.”

Rebecca picked up her purse, “Look, I know this might make me look like a bad friend, but I can’t stay in Central right now. I just locked that new position in the East, if I’m not back by tomorrow morning they-“

“Say no more.” Mustang reassured her, “There isn’t much for all of us to do right now. We will let you know if anything new turns up.”

“You better.” She turned to Havoc and punched his arm, “You two.”

“Ow…” Havoc rubbed his arm, “I’ll make sure you stay informed.”

“In the meantime, I’ll keep Hayate with me until she comes back.” Rebecca turned and walked out of the apartment with the pup in tow. Havoc turned to Mustang as he approached the front door to follow Rebecca out.

“You comin’, Chief?”

“Yes, just need one thing before we go.” Mustang grabbed the photo of the team out of its wooden frame on the mantle. The two walked out and locked up Hawkeye’s apartment. Headed back towards Central they were quiet and deep in thought, both sensing that this wasn’t going to be easy.

A few hours later, Central Command Center  
Roy sat at his desk going through the requests for leave filed in the past six months, reading Hawkeye’s over and over again. Furey sat at his desk with Havoc looking through all of Hawkeye’s bank statements while Falman and Breda looked through a file of train receipts under Hawkeye’s name.

“There are no recent train tickets bought under Hawkeye, the last few being earlier this year when you and her made that trip to visit Ed and Winry in Resiembool. The next two are trips we’ve made to Ishval and each have a corresponding ticket home.” Breda looked at Mustang, holding a copy of the file. Roy stood and grabbed the file from him, reaffirming its contents.

Furey held up a bank statement, “The last transaction she made at the bank was two days before she took her leave.”

“What was the transaction?” Roy asked.

“It was a withdrawal but it was a very low amount, barely enough for groceries. She has plenty of money in her account though.”

“Hmmm,” Havoc lit up another cigarette, “No serious withdrawals and no train tickets means she wasn’t likely visiting a relative or running away.” 

“So she just...disappeared?” Falman shook his head, “People don’t just disappear without a trace.”

“Or without a ransom” Breda added.

Furey bit his lip, “Ransom? Do you think maybe she was...kidnapped or something?”

“If she was kidnapped why would she have requested a leave of absence?” Havoc looked over at Mustang. “Sir?”

Mustang walked back to his desk, “We will find her, if that means searching farther and wider, than so be it. Check all the major train stations in the country,” He looked at his men, “Find anything you can, even the smallest detail may be the key we need and...”

“And?” Havoc quirked an eyebrow upwards.

Mustang sighed, “And...we are already running out of time. We need to find her and fast.”

His men saluted and they all set off on their duties once again. 

‘Please be safe, Hawkeye.’ Mustang thought as he dived back into his search, ‘Please...’


	9. Rat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all your lovely comments and the kudos! I am so excited to put another chapter out! WARNING: This chapter does contain elements of TW for violence(NOT in anything sexual) but please keep in mind while reading! If it's not something you are able to process I totally understand. You can skip this chapter if need be! (I won't be upset) Other than that-Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Rat

Fort Windsor, evening  
Riza opened her eyes to a blinding light, blurry shadows of things flitted in her peripherals. She was in an unfamiliar room. There was a dull pain in her neck and her chest felt tight. She couldn’t move, stuck to something that she couldn’t identify. A shadowy figure came to her side and it grabbed something above her head. A new light positioned itself straight into Hawkeye’s face. She groaned softly in discomfort, trying to speak but her mouth was too dry, her lips chapped. 

After moments of blinking, the shadowy figure became clearer. It was a soldier in a lab coat, she had seen him around the fort before but never knew his name. He looked down at her with a small smile, then began scribbling something down on a clipboard. Riza looked down to see she was strapped onto a flat, stiff bed, one thick strap was buckled over her chest very tightly. Another strap around each wrist and each ankle. Hawkeye struggled against them but found she was too weak. She huffed and panted frantically, her body going into panic mode at the feeling of being restrained.

“No use in struggling, Soldier.” General Boeller put a hand on her shoulder, clutching tightly and aggravating the pain in her neck, “You aren’t going anywhere.” 

He came around the side to face her directly, sitting on the edge of the bed, it creaked under his weight. He motioned to the soldier who propped the top part of the bed up so Hawkeye was in a sitting position.

Riza looked around the room that was now coming more into focus. It was white and sterile, unlike any part of the fort that Hawkeye had seen before. A single chair sat in the corner in addition to the bed she was strapped to. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an exit and not being able to see one made fear rise in her chest. 

‘There must be a way out behind me.’ She tried to breathe and focus on staying calm.

The General chuckled, watching her every move. “I suppose I should explain a few things, afterall, you’re probably wondering where you are and why? You see, Soldier, we are conducting a series of experiments here. It’s part of a groundbreaking new military method, spearheaded by me. And once they see what I can create, the military will hail me as a hero.”  
He leaned in close to her face, a smug smile on his lips. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Wh-What?” Riza managed to choke out. “No. I won’t.”

“I told you before.” General Boeller grabbed the collar of her uniform roughly, “You are a rat, and you don’t have a choice.”  
“Where are the others? What are you doing to them?” Riza fought her restraints, “You can’t do this.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Boeller let go of her collar and stood, pacing slowly around the bed. “It won’t be you...or your friends…” Once he was out of sight, a hand gripped her hair and pulled her head backwards, blinding her with the light again. “...did you think, what was it-Mustang? Did you think he would come find you?” He shoved her head forward aggressively before releasing her. “What a loyal dog you are...didn’t I say to be careful of where your loyalties lied?”

Suddenly his face was mere inches from hers again, “You may have been his dog, but now you are my rat.”

The General stood and stepped back from the bed, and the soldier in the lab coat was back at her other side. He tied a tight rubber band around her arm. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” Riza croaked, her voice still cracking from the dry air.

The soldier held up a syringe with a sickly green liquid inside. Hawkeye fought against the leather straps, only to have her thrashing stopped by another soldier holding her shoulders down. General Boeller just smiled. The soldier in the lab coat held her arm roughly, the pressure of his fingers would surely bruise. The tip of the syringe hovered above the vein in her arm, waiting for her to be contained. Finally the needle pierced her skin and the liquid flowed into her bloodstream. Hawkeye tried to contain her yelp, but it escaped through her chapped lips, gritting her teeth as searing pain raced up her arm.

Suddenly the bed flipped down, forcing Hawkeye to lay flat, looking up at the ceiling. The lights turned off and an image from an old projector flashed on the ceiling above. It was a picture of a bear, then it changed to a picture of a bowl, then a tree, then a hat. Images flipped through, cycling on a pattern. Riza’s mind raced, trying to find some logical explanation. ‘What are these images? Why are they showing me this? Why...?’ 

As the images continued their cycle on the ceiling, Riza began to feel light headed and a tingling sensation crawled up her legs. Her panic subsided and her confusion dissipated. Her body felt weightless, as if floating. 

‘I can’t let myself fall into this trap...I have to...keep my head...’ The images kept appearing, blurring together on the ceiling. She couldn’t fight her body from feeling the euphoric aura wash over her and before she could think any further, her mind went blank. 

Riza blinked as her vision appeared out of nowhere. The images were no longer flashing on the ceiling and her body felt heavy again. A sudden grogginess held her down more powerfully than the straps of the table-like bed. ‘How long was I out of it?’ She wanted to sleep, or vomit, perhaps both. The sound of men’s voices spoke behind her but she couldn’t comprehend any of it.

“Up and at ‘em, Soldier.” That voice. It was him, the General. He came around from behind the bed and into her foggy view. He smiled and she wanted desperately to lunge at him but could not find the strength. “Don’t worry, it’s not over yet.” 

The flat bed suddenly lowered with a jolt and a soldier in a lab coat came around to unbuckle the straps. Riza desperately wanted to fight but she couldn’t move enough to attempt an escape, the soldier helped her up and forced her to walk. She was dizzy and about to fall onto the cold, cement floor when she felt the General’s arm wrap around her waist. Too roughly. It constricted around her, squeezing the air from her lungs. He pushed her forward, and with the soldier’s assistance, they walked her down a narrow cement hallway with dim lighting. The next room was just as windowless as the room before, but this one was dark and smelled musty from the moisture in the room. In its center was a tub, filled with water. The water was dark from the lack of light, and the temperature in the room was only slightly warmer than the rest of the fort, but not by much. 

She was pulled closer to the tub, and another wave of panic came over her. Riza used what little strength she had to rip herself from their grasp, only to be grabbed by General Boeller once more. The back of his hand whipped across her cheek, sending her to the ground with a thud, effectively halting her rebellion. She lay still, too weak to continue.

“I told you she was a fighter.” General Boeller chuckled, nudging one of the lab coated soldiers with a clipboard. 

“The best cases for this program usually are.” He said as he jotted down notes.

Another soldier brought her to her feet and began stripping her down, but stopping when they reached her undershirt and underwear. General Boeller just stood and watched with great interest. Riza avoided Boeller’s gaze, but could feel his stare and it made her sick.

“Please step into the bath.” The soldier in the lab coat motioned to the tub, and she hesitated before slowly making her way over to the edge of it. Hawkeye braced herself for the cold and stepped in, once her chest was submerged the cold became painful, making it difficult to breathe. She sat in the water, shivering, waiting, and refusing to look at any of them. 

“Are you a swimmer, Soldier?” The General crossed his arms, teasing her.

A soldier came over to kneel behind Hawkeye, putting his hands on her shoulders firmly while the other came around to face her. In his hand he held a flip book of pages, opening it to the first image. A bear. Riza’s eyes widened, ‘Not this again...’ 

“What do you see here, Soldier?” General Boeller asked with intrigue.   
Hawkeye shook her head, she didn’t understand what they were trying to do. She turned her head away from the book and the men in the room. Suddenly, the soldier behind her shoved her underwater, holding her down. After a moment of sheer terror, Riza was pulled back up, gasping and coughing out water that had found its way into her airways. Her throat burned and she wheezed, trying to regain composure and fight the shock her body was feeling. 

“Now, I will ask you again, Soldier.” The General was smiling. “What do you see?” 

Riza looked back to the book, tears rolling down her face and mixing with the bath water as she croaked out the word. “...bear...”

General Boeller clapped his hands. “Very good. Continue.” 

The soldier holding the book flipped to the next image, and Riza recognized it from earlier. She shook her head and shut her eyes only to be swiftly dunked under the water once more. This time she was prepared, and she waited with held breath and did not move. ‘If I stay like this they will bring me back up. They won’t want to kill me...Right?’ Riza thought, but it didn’t take long before her chest started to burn and she squirmed around trying to reach the surface. She was still pinned down by the Soldier. Hawkeye thrashed in the tub, kicking around and splashing until finally she was lifted back up. Once her coughing and wheezing had subsided, she looked at the book.

“...bowl...”

The General nodded. “Continue.”

It was the same, over and over again. Resist. Be pinned underwater. Give in. Resist. Underwater. Give in. There was no semblance of time, all that mattered was surviving each attack. Each time spent under the surface of the bath was longer and longer. The last one causing a near black out.

Finally, the soldier behind her lifted her out of the tub and used a towel to dry her. The freezing air had her trembling and she felt tired. So tired. Riza noticed Boeller had left the room already, and only the soldiers in lab coats were around to escort her out. She counted them, deflating once more when she realized she was still outnumbered. They took her arms firmly and led her back down the narrow hallway, taking her into more unfamiliar territory. The soldiers opened a new door and shoved Hawkeye inside so roughly she fell to the cold, hard floor. The door slammed shut and a lock clicked, leaving her in a dark room with only a dim light for guidance. It was empty, no furniture, nothing, except for a shadowy figure sitting in the corner.

A hoarse voice, barely audible, called out to her, “Hawkeye...?” 

She looked, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, and was met with soft eyes behind two cracked lenses. “P-Patrick?”

He sighed in relief. “...are you okay?” 

Riza shook her head, “I don’t know...” She looked him over and noticed he was laying against the wall, defeated. He had a scratch on his forehead, still bloody, and small red circles burned on his hands, neck and temples. “Wh-What did they do to you?”

“They had us hooked up to some kind of machine…” Patrick touched the burns on his hands tentatively, “...it sent out electrical shocks...h-hurt like hell…”

Riza gained enough energy to crawl over to him, landing her back against the wall with a grunt. Her body was convulsing from the cold air, her undergarments were still wet underneath the dry uniform. 

“Y-You said ‘us’?” She turned to look at Patrick.

“Keller and I…”

“Where i-is he?” 

Patrick looked away for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “H-He’s gone...”

The room was silent. Hawkeye stared at the cement floor trying to process but could hardly focus. Tears brimmed at her eyes and Patrick heaved a heavy sigh, his lip trembling.

“H-How...?” 

Patrick’s sob wracked his chest, “The shocks stopped his h-heart I think...” He wiped his face, voice cracking, “...he wouldn’t wake up...they d-didn’t even try to save him..”

Riza’s tears spilled down her cheeks and she placed her hand over her mouth. ‘This is all my fault…’ She brought her knees to her chest. ‘This is all my fault...Keller...he helped us...and he died for it...’ Patrick placed his hand gently on her back. 

“Do you know where Lance is?” He asked.

Riza shook her head and whispered, “No...I don’t...”

There was no way to know anything that was happening beyond the confines of these four walls. She hoped Lance had made it, wherever he was. The two sat there for what seemed like hours, floating between moments of pain and falling in and out of restless sleep.


	10. Aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, chapter 10 already? I can't believe it! And we still have so much more to come! Thank you to all the readers for your support! TW for some of this chapter, but not as much as last chapter. :) Enjoy!

Chapter 10: Aftershock

A day later  
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway and the lock on the door clicked. It creaked open slowly to reveal the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway, shining a flashlight in their eyes. Patrick and Riza held up their hands to shield their eyes from the harsh contrast of light. The soldier was not alone, he walked over to grab Hawkeye by the arm and dragged her out into the hallway. Patrick yelled and lunged towards the soldier, but was knocked back with a swift kick to the stomach, leaving him to crumple on the floor. 

The soldiers slammed the door and locked it on Patrick, leading Hawkeye down the hallway. She looked around frantically, trying to find anything that could tell her what day it was or where inside the fort they were. One hallway led to another, nothing was familiar. Ahead of them, at the end of the hallway, a door opened and two soldiers carried out a body. 

Keller’s form hung limp in the grasp of the soldiers. Hawkeye tried to break free of her captors, but they were too strong. Tears brimmed in her eyes and her nose stung in the anticipation of crying. The soldiers carrying Keller’s body did not acknowledge her presence and took him away to somewhere unknown. 

“Where are they taking him?” Riza struggled against the two soldiers that held her arms. “Let me go-Let me go!”

General Boeller appeared from around the corner, passing by the soldiers carrying Keller, sighing disingenuously. He walked up to Hawkeye slowly, grinning as he saw her fighting spirit subside from weakness.

“It’s not a pretty sight, is it?” The General shrugged. “But that’s what happens when you dig your own grave. He had it so good too, but he decided to help you instead…”

Riza’s knees buckled and she would have fallen if it weren’t for the bruising hold on her arms. Her head hung in despair, but her eyes glared up at Boeller, fire still burning in their gaze.

“You know…” General Boeller moved towards her further, placing a hand under her chin. “...you could have had it better too, but you will still prove useful.”

“I’ll kill you.” She spat and jerked her chin away from his hand.

The General stared at her for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. “You are in no position to be making such threats, Soldier. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet? The defiance is what keeps getting you in trouble and getting your friends killed.” He used the back of his hand to smack her with brute force, leaving her cheek stinging. “You will learn your place here, after this.”  
Riza bit her lip, she would hold her tongue for now. 

“Bring her to room 107.” The General nodded to the soldiers still holding her. “They are ready to see her.”

Riza knew struggling was no use, but that did not stop her from trying to find ways to worm out of their grasp. They dragged her down another hallway, General Boeller behind them, until they came upon the room. 107.

She was taken inside and forced to lay on a table, soldiers in lab coats strapping her down again. Hawkeye watched them as they hurriedly attached little white circles to her arms, hands, temple, neck and chest. The white circles stuck to her skin painfully and connected with little black wires, all which were connected to some sort of machine with a red lever. A piece of cloth was placed in between her teeth, nearly gagging her. An image suddenly projected onto the ceiling above her, just like before. A bear.

‘No...No, not this again!’ Riza thought.

“Good morning, Soldier.” One of the men came around to face her. General Boeller stood behind him, watching with amusement. The man speaking had a soft voice, but he felt dangerous all the same. “I’ll explain. I’m going to show you an image and I need you to tap once when you recognize it and tap twice when you don’t. It’s very simple.”

Riza glared at him. She shook her head in opposition.

“It’s very simple.” The man’s smile faded. He pointed to the image above on the ceiling. “Tap once if you recognize the image, tap twice if no. Do you recognize this image?” 

Riza swiftly turned her head away from the man and huffed. 

“I told you she was stubborn.” The General chuckled. 

The man scribbled on a clipboard. “No matter.” He turned and nodded to his assistant standing by the lever of the big machine. “Level 1, Please.” 

The assistant soldier pulled the lever down to the first notch, sending an electrical shock down the wires and onto the circles. Hawkeye couldn’t stop the convulsing from the shock and the circles burned her skin as she shook. She screamed through the cloth as a terrible, searing pain fired across her body. 

The assistant put the lever back to its first position, ceasing the electric wave. Hawkeye slumped hard against the table, crying out in pain. 

“Now, let us try again, shall we? Do you recognize the image above you?” 

Riza stared at the picture of the bear and she closed her eyes tightly. ‘I can’t let them win...I can’t give in to them...’

The man scribbled on the clipboard again before turning to his assistant. “Level 2, please.” 

The assistant pulled the lever down to the second notch on the machine, sending another electrical wave across her body. Riza shook as it vibrated her entire being, so painful it made it hard to even think inside her own head. Tears sprung from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. It finally subsided and Hawkeye balled her hands into fists, trying to breathe through the thick cloth in her mouth. 

“I’ll ask you again.” He pointed to the bear picture again, still just as calm. “Tap once for yes, twice for no. Do you recognize this image?” 

Hawkeye tapped her fingers against the table once, then balled them back into fists. The man smiled and scribbled more data on his clipboard. General Boeller crossed his arms and scratched his chin, looking on as if he were playing a game of chess. Riza glared at them both, then at the assistant. The image above her changed, this time to an image of a bowl.

“Now, same concept. Do you recognize this image?” 

Hawkeye looked away again, defiantly. She wanted this nightmare to end but they were relentless. How much more could they do? How much more could she take? The man scratched another count on the clipboard and sighed, “This would be a lot easier if you’d cooperate. Your rebellion only prolongs the pain.”

Riza gave them no answer.

“Level 3, Please.” 

This time the electrical shocks raked across her body deeper than before. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt the pulse of it in the very ends of her fingertips. The circles burned into her skin like fire, and she screamed out through the cloth, shaking violently as to rattle the entire table. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and did not stop until she sensed the taste of metal on her tongue. Once the assistant had pulled the lever back up into its resting place, Hawkeye thudded against the table and trembled from aftershocks still rippling through her system. She felt wet on her hands, realizing she had clenched her fists so tightly that her nails drew blood from her palms. 

“Let us try again. We can do this all day, the choice is up to you.” The man said and pointed to the picture of the bowl on the ceiling. “Do you recognize this image?”

Riza, with tears spilling down her cheeks, tapped once with her bloodied fingertips.

“Good, Good. Now, how about this one?” 

The image on the ceiling changed to a picture of a car tire. This image, she noticed, hadn’t been in the slideshow before. Hawkeye stared at it, trying to focus all the thoughts racing around in her brain. 

The man asked again, “Do you recognize this image?”

Silence. The man motioned to the soldier to pull the lever, but before he could say anything, Hawkeye tapped her bloodied fingertips to the table twice.

“Ah, we’re finally getting somewhere.” The General chuckled, “See now? That wasn’t so hard, was it, Soldier?”

Hawkeye bit down on the cloth, trying to contain her sobs. She needed to regain a sense of calm and work her way out of this, but every part of her body throbbed with pain. All she wanted to think about at the moment was sleep. They proceeded with their game and Hawkeye decided to play along, slowly slipping into an unconscious blur.

She awoke to the soldiers removing the straps that bound her to the table, the wires gone, and helped her into a standing position. They led her back, weak and delirious, through the labyrinth of hallways to the dark room where they kept Patrick. They threw her roughly to the ground and one soldier stood guard over her until Patrick was removed from the room. The door slammed shut, leaving Hawkeye alone to sit and wait. For something. Anything.

She crawled over to the corner where she could prop herself up into a sitting position, groaning in pain. Tired. She wanted to sleep, and hope that when she woke up it would all be over. Just another nightmare, but everytime she opened her eyes she was still stuck in the room. 

‘Have I slept? What time is it? How long have I been here? Has Mustang noticed I’m gone…?’

Her thoughts plagued her, wrestling with the idea that there was still hope. Time was a blur and everything was such a mess. Riza curled inwards and further into the corner of the room, coasting somewhere in between consciousness and sleep.

2 weeks later  
Riza awoke from another drug induced session of images on the ceiling, finally adjusting her eyes to the light. She felt lost, time was hardly a construct to her anymore especially when they took her into this room. The time passed by slowly and quickly all at once. There were times where she gained enough energy to try and resist but General Boeller and his officers were always one step ahead and quick to overpower her, with any means they deemed necessary. 

Most days were filled with endless rounds of images on the ceiling, bathtubs of water and electrical shocks. Other days she worked with the rest of the men in the main hall, building tanks and ammunition. They were run in tight, orderly shifts with little contact. Riza would look across the main hall, thankful to see that Patrick and Lance were still alive. Sleep came and went, food and water remained scarce, only given to her in the room. That’s when Hawkeye decided to stop eating all together. ‘I am done playing these games.’ She thought. ‘I don’t want to do this anymore.’ 

It only took a day or so of refusing food for General Boeller to notice. He was not pleased when she had found another way to defy him. One night, while she curled up in the corner of the dark room, he entered, holding a bread roll.

“What am I going to do with you?” He inquired. She gave him no response.

“You need to eat, otherwise you won’t be able to work.” His voice was sickly sweet, “I need you to stay alive, Soldier.” 

“Get away from me.” Riza spat.

“Tch. Tch. Tch.” The General shook his head as he knelt down by her and handed her the bread roll. “But you’re my star soldier here, you’re the one with the most potential.”

Riza felt that familiar shiver crawl up her spine. He had told her many times before about ‘potential’, but what exactly did that mean? It had something to do with those images, she knew, but her mind had gotten so messy she couldn’t keep track of things anymore. It didn’t help that most of the time spent with the images caused her to blackout.

The General smiled wider, “You’re almost there, Soldier.” The General stood and walked towards the door, turning back to say to her, “Make sure you eat and keep your strength up, Soldier. You’re going to need it.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Hawkeye alone in the room once again.


	11. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Get ready for an interesting chapter! Thanks for all your lovely comments and support, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 11: Answers

2 Weeks Later, Central Command Center, 1:00pm  
Havoc threw down another heavy folder of records onto his desk. It had been an entire month since Lieutenant Hawkeye had failed to return and their General was in a fowl state. His usual cocky smile and casual attitude had been replaced with a taut line of his lips and furrowed brow. The team was working all hours of the day to find anything, any trace of her, but it was like she had disappeared into thin air. Havoc rubbed his temples trying to soothe the never ending, stress headaches he had been suffering from. Trying to find her was one thing, but doing that and taking care of the General? It was more than the full time job he had signed up for. 

‘If Lieutenant Hawkeye comes back alive and well, I’ll kill her myself.’ Havoc scoffed at his thought and shook his head. It was no surprise that Hawkeye knew exactly how to care and console General Mustang, she was always the best at it for some reason that he, nor the other men could ever understand. It was also no surprise that the men failed quite miserably at comforting their leader, and with the weight of this situation resting on them, it was damn near exhausting.

Havoc watched the other men sifting through nearly every train record in Amestris, looking through papers and mail from her apartment, and working on missing person flyers. An official report of her missing had been sent to the offices and it had gained them nothing, no new leads, no sightings, nothing. Lieutenant Havoc had been in constant call with Lieutenant Catalina, who was doing everything she could in the Eastern region. Still nothing. It didn’t help that Fuhrer Grumman had just happened to take a month long excursion to Aurego to help settle foreign affairs and was difficult to reach. 

General Mustang had nearly halted every project they had been working on, even decreasing his involvement with the restoration of Ishval. Their smaller projects had been sent to other departments so that their sole focus could be on finding Lieutenant Hawkeye. Havoc, Furey, Breda and Falman were all just as determined to find her. She was part of the team, an integral part and they cared for her too. Things just wouldn’t be the same without her, skill set aside. Havoc knew he personally would miss her dry sense of humor and the way she would smile at their silly antics when no one was looking. Furey missed seeing her light up whenever Hayate would do a trick, and Breda missed the way she always offered to make anyone tea when she made herself a cup. Falman missed talking to her about books and when she would recommend him her latest favorite. They missed her greeting them every morning and they missed her beating them all at target practice, but deep down they all knew, it was Mustang who missed her most of all.

They needed to find her. Alive.

This particular morning was going to be different, Havoc felt it in his bones. He had woken up with a strange feeling, lingering in the pit of his stomach. And by the way that Mustang looked when he entered the office, Havoc guessed he felt the same way. General Mustang walked in briskly with Hawkeye’s files that he now carried everywhere, his face was clouded with exhaustion but, behind the clouds, there was a determined gleam in his eye. 

“Mornin’, Chief.” Havoc lit up a cigarette as he greeted him, a usual routine. The General went to say something but Havoc waved his hand and continued. “Don’t worry, we are already on it.”

Mustang gave him a small smirk in understanding. He nodded to the rest of the men, all returning with a salute and went back to their work.

“Have you spoken with Lieutenant Catalina?” Mustang asked as he flipped through some papers.

Havoc let out a puff of smoke, “Not since yesterday, nothing she has checked out so far has turned up anything.” 

“She must be just as worried,” Furey stated. “There has to be something we are missing or overlooking?”

“We say that everyday,” Breda sighed. “How can six soldiers miss an entire detail?”

Falman interjected, “It’s simple if we aren’t looking in the right places?”

“Where else can we look that we haven’t looked already?” Havoc asked.

Falman responded carefully, “Maybe we are trying too hard?” He shot his hands up quickly in defense, already sensing Mustang’s tension grow tenfold, “I don’t mean that we should stop, I just mean that we may be trying in too obvious of ways?”

“Like?” Mustang arched an eyebrow, the other men watched Falman speak with caution. 

“Perhaps we aren’t trying enough scenarios. We have followed a runaway motive but, we gave up on the kidnapping motive pretty early on...maybe that’s something we should look more into?”

“Maybe Falman’s right? Should we ask for more assistance?” Furey asked.

“More eyes could be helpful, I know that Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Brosh have been keeping tags on the situation at Catalina’s request.” Breda added.

“We could ask Fullmetal and his brother?” Havoc quieted his cigarette butt in an ashtray, “He is back from his travels, so he should be in Resembool. Alphonse might be there too since Fullmetal is supposed to get married to his mechanic soon.”

“Oh yeah, I think you’re right.” Furey had a hopeful smile. “We can ask Armstrong too, he’d be willing to help, I’m sure of it.” 

The men began to discuss plans to contact and widen their search party among other motives and scenarios to follow up on. A knock at the door interrupted them.

It opened and an officer from the Head Office entered. Henry Faye was a smaller soldier with a stocky build, always quick and efficient, always friendly. 

“Good morning, General Mustang.” Faye saluted and gave nods to the other men. “I came to give you some new break waiver forms from the office, as well as some other generic forms that you might be running low on.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Faye.” Mustang motioned to a file cabinet. “You can put them on top of that, I’ll sort them later.”

Havoc watched Faye walk over to the cabinet, he grinned, “How’s the secretary life? Working hard or hardly working?” 

They laughed for a moment before Faye nodded and shrugged, “Better than boot camp, but I do miss the action sometimes.”

“I bet.” Havoc teased. 

Falman inquired, “You’ve been gone for about two months now, yeah? Back so soon.”

“That’s right, unfortunately my paternity leave was up so it’s back to work. It does feel good to be at the grind again. I do miss the little tike, though.” Faye chuckled.

“Congratulations, Sir.” Furey smiled.

“I bet doing paperwork has got to be better than changing diapers.” Breda smirked at the officer.

Faye laughed, “Well, changing diapers is a battlefield all on it’s own.” The men continued small talk for a few minutes before the officer headed towards the door. “It’s been great catching up, but I guess I should get back to my rounds.” He saluted General Mustang and his team, and as he turned he noticed the empty desk in the room. Turning back to face the team fully, Faye smiled and pointed casually at Hawkeye’s desk.

“By the way, how is Lieutenant Hawkeye doing up North?”

The room grew still, the men’s spines stiffening. Mustang blinked in bewilderment for a moment before stuttering out, “W-What?” 

Henry Faye didn’t miss a beat. “Lieutenant Hawkeye? How is she holding up in the North? I heard it’s about to get even colder up there pretty soon.”

Lieutenant Havoc held up a hand in confusion. “Hold on-what do you mean ‘up North’?”

Faye laughed nervously, now fearing he had said something wrong. “Her transfer? She transferred, right?”

“No...I-I...what makes you think that?” Mustang stood, his heart racing.

“Y-Yes? I mean...oh gosh, I was so sure?” Faye scrunched up his face in thought, “At least, I thought I handled her transfer form-No. She came in, I’m sure of it.” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Breda waved his hands and tried to put all the pieces of new information together. “You filed a transfer form under Hawkeye’s name?”

“Y-Yes? I could've sworn.” Faye nodded.

“When? For where?” Mustang snapped and his tone cut across like a knife.

Faye stumbled, now feeling overwhelmed, trying to think. “It was about...eh...two months ago? And it was up North-“

“Briggs? She was transferred to Briggs?” Mustang was quickly becoming furious. ‘She couldn’t-she wouldn’t.’ He thought.

“No, not Briggs.” Faye said, earning a resounding ‘huh?’ from the men. “I’m pretty sure it was to Fort Windsor.”

“Fort Windsor?” Mustang knew it had been built but with the restoration of Ishval and the various other projects, he hadn’t taken the time to care much about it. ‘Why would Hawkeye have transferred there?’ Thoughts collided around relentlessly in his head, threatening to make him sick. “And you’re sure you filed a transfer request for her there?”

“It had to have been. If I’m recalling that memory correctly, then yes.” Faye looked around at the faces of the General’s unit, they quickly paled with confusion. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene, Sir. I must admit, I’m confused as well. Did you not know?”

Havoc stood, “We were under the impression she was on a leave of absence. When she didn’t return, we got worried and have been trying to find her ever since. We even filed a missing persons report. We haven’t heard anything after that, she’s been missing for almost a month.”

Faye’s eyes widened. “Oh. I see. That is strange, if she was transferred, you should’ve received a notice telling you that she was accounted for somewhere else when you turned in your missing persons report. But I was so sure I signed a transfer form.” 

Mustang was silent for a moment before he slammed his palm down on the desk so hard it stung, “Officer Faye, if you have it, I request to see that transfer form immediately.”

“Yes, Sir!” Faye saluted, “I’ll be right back.”

Havoc scratched his head as Faye exited the office, turning to his commanding officer. “This doesn’t make any sense...”

“If she did transfer, why?” Breda wondered out loud.

“More so,” Falman added, “If she did transfer, why would nothing come back to us when we filed a missing person’s report?”

“I don’t know.” Mustang leaned on the desk for support. 

It was nearly an hour before Faye had returned with a file folder, entering the office again and shutting the door behind him, for obvious privacy. Mustang practically leapt from his chair, gathering near his men as Faye approached them. 

Faye looked around, lines of worry etched on his face. “I’m sorry for taking so long, but...something isn’t quite right.”

A tension in the air fell upon their shoulders, would this be the answer? Or would it be another dead end?

He continued, “I went back to the office and immediately went to check the files of transfers in the record room, except I was denied access to any files concerning transfers to Fort Windsor.”

“So you were blocked?” Havoc quirked an eyebrow. “How can they block you from your own records?”

“That’s what makes me uneasy. There should be no reason that I can’t see them, but as it stands they are being withheld, the excuse being some sort of security breach.”

“An excuse? You make it sound like they are lying.” Mustang narrowed his eyes.

“It’s a suspicion. I’ve never been blocked from my own work, even during a security breach. But, as I walked back to my desk, I realized something.”

“And?” Breda encouraged, the men were hanging on to every word.

“I know I had spoken to Hawkeye, in fact, I remembered because it was on one of my last days before I left for my two month leave. Which meant that I still had my personal copy of her transfer form in my locked cabinet.” Faye held out the folder to the General.

Mustang nearly tore the folder as he opened it in haste, skimming through the file until he found what he was looking for. The men had all gathered behind him, waiting in heightened anticipation. Mustang finally lifted up a piece of paper that held the answer. A stamp that officially confirmed it. ‘Transferred’. 

“I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing in distress. “I...I don’t understand...why?”

Havoc shook his head. “Hawkeye transferred? There’s no way...I mean, she would never have left y-”

He was silenced by Breda’s elbow in his rib, “What he means to say is that, it seems like we are still missing something, a motive. Hawkeye had to have left for a reason.”

Mustang pondered, reading the word over and over again. ‘Transferred.’ 

Furey put a hand to his chin anxiously, “A secret mission maybe?”

“But it still doesn’t make sense,” Falman added, “Why, Sir, would she have given you a request for a leave of absence with a month long deadline, if she hadn’t intended to return?”

“She did, I signed it.” Mustang sighed in exasperation, “I thought she would have turned it over to the Head Office?”

Faye shook his head, “No, Sir. She did turn in her transfer form, though.”

While they had been talking, Havoc walked over to Hawkeye’s empty desk and started rummaging through it.

“We already searched her desk.” Furey reminded him. “She probably threw it away.”

His response earned an eye roll from Havoc.

“Hawkeye? Throw away paperwork? In Mustang’s dreams.” He continued while General Mustang glared at him for the comment. 

“But we already searched-“ Breda started, but was interrupted by Havoc opening the top drawer and pulling it all the way out. His head dove into the empty space of the desk, and let out a resounding ‘Ah-Ha!’. He whipped out the filled out leave request that had been taped behind the drawer, with Mustang’s obvious signature. 

“So she didn’t turn it in. She really did transfer...but...wouldn’t she know I would figure it out when the end of the month came?” Mustang nearly yelled.

“Unless she planned to come back.” Falman said quickly. “But then ended up staying.”

The men stood quietly in thought when it was once again broken by Faye, who had been skimming the file during the desk commotion. “Well, I don’t know if this helps any but, it says here that it wasn’t a regular transfer. It was stated as a ‘fill-in transfer’.”

“A ‘fill-in’?” The team said in unison.

Faye continued, “It says on this page that there was a request for General Mustang’s transfer to Fort Windsor, but Hawkeye filled in. And...General Mustang approved it.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Mustang barked, “I would never have approved something like that!”

“But...you did?” Faye held out the paper with his signature on it. “Is that not your signature?”

Mustang stared at the scrawl on the paper for a long time. “Y-Yes...? But I-How? I didn’t even know. I never would have signed her away like that...”

“She probably knew that, Sir.” Havoc stated, “Don’t you get it? Lieutenant Hawkeye pulled a rouse on everybody so that she could keep you from the new fort.” Understanding dawned on them as Havoc kept talking, “She fooled us with a request for leave, but actually transferred to take your place. She must have figured that with tensions at the Northern Border, there was a good chance for fighting to break out. And she must have planned to return quickly by transferring back to Central by the end of the month so that no one would notice.”

Mustang took in all the information, Lieutenant Havoc had to be right about this. However, there was one question that still haunted him. “But, why didn’t she come back?” 

“Now that, is the real issue here.”

General Mustang nodded and excused Faye out of the room, swearing him to secrecy for the time being. The men walked back to their desks to start cleaning up their research when their superior began long strides towards the door with his jacket in hand. He turned back towards them, the gleam in his eyes was now a fire.

“There’s only one thing to be done.”

“What’s that?” Havoc asked.

Mustang replied sternly. “We pack our bags and hop on the very next train.” He made eye contact with each of them before nodding. “We are headed North.”

The men all saluted and Mustang let the door to the office slam behind him, leaving the team to get ready for the long journey ahead.


	12. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your love and support, I love hearing all your wonderful comments! Here's another chapter for you all, I hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 12: Journey

Central Train Station, 3:00pm  
Mustang gripped the strap of his small pack, readjusting it over his shoulder. His feet led him to his destination much faster than the others, he turned around to make sure they were still all accounted for. Havoc’s long legs caught up easily, as did Falman. Furey hustled with Breda tailing him, both slightly out of breath from running the length of the station. The whistle blew, sending steam into the air while the team dodged citizens expertly, landing at their designated train and hoping aboard. Barely clearing the entrance, the train began to move, jostling them in it’s unceremonious rhythm.

“I can’t believe we actually made it.” Havoc said as they scoured for an empty compartment. 

Mustang opened the sliding door to a compartment, and set to work on storing their overnight bags on the top shelves.

Furey put a hand over his chest, finally able to catch his breath. “When they said the only train to the North was leaving in five minutes, I started to panic.”

“I think we all did.” Breda slumped into the first open seat with a sigh.

Falman nodded. “I am just glad we were able to catch a train North, lucky break for us. We should be there by late evening.”

Mustang settled himself in a seat by the window. He stayed silent as the men chattered on, slightly relieved to at least have a direction to find her. And yet, he couldn’t ease the feeling of uncertainty and couldn’t stop his stomach turning with every jolt of the train. Something felt wrong about all of this.

Fort Windsor, 3:00pm  
It felt like a dream. Not a good dream, more like a recurring nightmare that you couldn’t remember once you were awake. Time was meaningless in the confines of the fort walls. Riza’s mind was plagued by the nightmares, trance-like sessions where these strange images and water and shocks haunted her, but everytime she woke up it was nothing but a distant memory. Her brain felt foggy, and she remained weak, just barely able to pick up her work tools. Her knees felt like they could meet the ground at any moment but she was not allowed to fall, no one was. Guards loomed ever so presently while they worked their shifts, making guns and tanks, pulling heavy levers on large factory machines in assembly lines. Anyone who stopped working or collapsed was taken away, some came back beaten and some never came back at all. If you weren’t working, you were useless to them. 

Hawkeye pounded a hammer on a sheet of tank metal, though just a normal tool, its weight felt like tons in her hands. In between those strange sessions and sleep and work, she let her mind wander when she could. Sometimes, in moments of clarity, she would try to recollect herself. Riza tried to think of ways to resist, trying to remember things that made her stronger. ‘Mustang...’ The thought of him always made her feel less hopeless. He was determined and quick to strategize a plan, a true leader. But he was not here, he would not save her. Her chest ached at her lack of mindfulness, she had always been so alert, so attentive. And now, she couldn’t even remember what they were doing to her. 

‘He would be so disappointed in me...I want to give up...’ Riza thought as her body started to shake, tears brimming at her eyes. ‘He isn’t coming for me...Why would he? He isn’t supposed to protect me...that’s my job...’ She braced herself on the structure of the tank. Lance noticed and nudged her gently, signaling to her that the guards were watching. Patrick gave her a solemn look of understanding from the other side of the metal frame. She nodded at them in reassurance and sighed heavily. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can hold on...’

Onboard the Train, 8:00pm  
Havoc sat, squished between Breda and Furey, with his arms folded and knee bouncing from anticipation. The train bumped and puttered along at an agonizing pace. ‘God could this ride be any longer?’ He thought. 

Furey had his face nearly pressed against the window, watching for the first sign of snow and Breda was damn near asleep. It was not the ideal seating arrangement, although he felt worse for Falman who was currently sitting next to an unsettled General Mustang. Havoc watched poor Falman sit, stiff as a board, next to his superior who was, at the moment, extremely perturbed by how much time everything was taking. Mustang was eerily silent otherwise, and tapped his fingers in irritation on his crossed leg, shaking his foot in synchronization. The General’s dark eyes were focused and calculating. His expression was sour and if it wasn't for the train compartment’s bright light, Havoc would have seen a grey thunder cloud hovering over the General’s head. 

“I think I see a snow cap!” Furey exclaimed.

“Does that mean we’re close?” Havoc asked unenthusiastically. 

“Approximately two more hours, give or take a few minutes, until we reach the Northern Train Station-”, Falman was interrupted by Mustang suddenly standing and storming out of the compartment.

Furey’s brows furrowed sadly. “Was it something we said?”

“Nah,” Havoc shook his head, “He’s got a lot on his mind. Falman you can relax now.”

Falman’s hand rested from where it was raised against his startled heart. “Damn, he is in an even worse mood than before.”

Breda sighed. “Well you know how he gets when it comes to...well, when it comes to her...”

“Should someone go try to talk to him?” Furey asked.

Havoc whistled. “You wanna try? Get burned to a crisp?” 

The men all shook their heads ‘no’, letting the conversation drift off into nothing but the rumbling of the train. After a few minutes, Havoc stood and stretched. “I need some air.” 

Exiting the compartment, he walked down the corridor of the train towards the back exit. He hoped Mustang was not behind that door. ‘Damnit Hawkeye, why’d you gotta run off and leave me to deal with this guy?’ Havoc opened the door and stepped out onto the small balcony of the caboose. Mustang stood with his hands braced on the railing, head low in thought. Havoc clumsily lit up a cigarette.

“Couldn’t wait to take a smoke break, huh?” Mustang said, not looking at his subordinate.

“Cool it, flame guy. I’m stressed too.” There was a slight pause for a drag of the cigarette, “We all are.”

“What if it’s my fault?”

Havoc looked at Mustang in confusion. “What would be your fault?”

“What if she left because of something I did?”

“I don’t think that’s the case, General.”

“She forged documents to take my place, sure, but she said she would be back in a month and...and she lied to me...” Mustang rubbed his forehead in frustration. “She transferred across the country...why?”

Havoc looked at the horizon line, the sun had already set long ago as the faraway mountains encroached in the distance. “Sir, I believe she fully intended to return. Why else would she have lied about the leave of absence?”

“I don’t know.” Mustang’s grip on the railing tightened as he looked up at the peaks of passing mountains. “I hope you’re right. But...what would have prevented her from coming back? Why would she stay?”

Havoc took the last drag of his cigarette, flicking the butt into the wilderness speeding by. “I guess you’ll have to ask her yourself, Sir.” 

To be honest, Havoc didn’t know what was the truth, maybe Hawkeye did run off intentionally. Maybe it had something to do with Mustang and maybe it didn’t. He didn’t know. ‘What would be worse? Hawkeye not wanting to stand by the General, or her trying to save him and ending up in trouble?’ Havoc wasn’t sure what would hurt less. So he declined to press any further.

Mustang nodded, still sullen about the situation but followed his subordinate back inside the train to finish out the last leg of their journey.

Fort Windsor, 9:30pm  
Riza heaved another blow onto the tank with her hammer. The workload today had been relentless and excruciating. Her muscles screamed for rest but she did not give in, thankful that at least her mind was growing less foggy today. 

Lance and Patrick were working just as hard next to her, pounding metal with their tools and breathing heavily. The main hall was now full of soldiers, well, what was left of them. It seemed everyone was on duty for this shift. She looked around at the other soldiers who were being held here. They looked thin and grey, bags under their eyes and wobbling while they worked. Riza had not seen a reflection of herself in a long time, and she wondered if she looked just like them.

Suddenly a loud bang erupted from the corner of the hall, a bright flash and smoke. 

“What was that?” Riza called, as the smoke wafted into the air.

Patrick hopped on top of the tank frame to get a better look. “Looks like something exploded?”

Most of the guarding officers left their posts to examine the remains of the explosion with their backs turned to the soldiers constructing the tanks.

Patrick was yanked abruptly from his position on the tank frame and down onto the ground by Lance. They met Riza, crouching lower to the ground, whispering quickly. 

“Those boxes of powder that are used to clean the gears in the machine are explosive when exposed to fire!” Lance’s eyes were wide with ambition.

“And?” asked Patrick.

“Maybe we can use them to some advantage, start blowing things up, fight back.” Lance looked at the two of them for approval. 

“How can we fight them? With what weapons? They have guns-“ Riza was interrupted by Lance shaking her shoulder and silently pointing to the finished tanks on their side of the hall. Newly assembled tanks...with guns. And the guards had stashed many arms and ammunition in crates in the same area. 

“I see.”

Patrick whispered hoarsely. “How are we going to get the message across to the others? It can’t just be the three of us?” 

“You leave that part to me, but I need you two to go on the other side and set fire to the boxes of cleaning powder to cause a distraction. I’ll signal the others to run to our side of the main hall, start rolling out tanks and…” Lance looked at Hawkeye.

“...we wage war.” She finished his statement.

“We can’t sit around and wait anymore, this is our last chance.”

Patrick gulped. “You’re right. This is it.”

Lance put a hand on each of their shoulders. “We don’t have much time. Just be careful, as soon as you light the boxes...you run. Run back as fast as you can, got it?”

They nodded and stood, keeping an eye on the guards who were still investigating the scene of the explosion, their backs turned.

Riza and Patrick weaved carefully through the crowds of soldiers that had gathered, trying not to look suspicious. They each grabbed a lighter and positioned themselves at two different boxes of powder on the opposite sides of the room, across from the tanks. The guards who were still barking orders and examining the explosion site had not noticed.

Other soldiers saw and waited. Lance whispered from one soldier to another, each of them passing the whisper down to the next, like a game of telephone. Just one phrase. Run to the guns.

Lance perched himself on a tank, waiting to see Hawkeye and Patrick in position. They nodded and he yelled, his voice loud enough to echo across the main hall. “Run!”

Riza flicked open the lighter, releasing the small flame and flung it onto the box of cleaner.

Mass chaos erupted.

North City Station, 10:00pm  
After a restless two hours, the train finally pulled into the station, screeching as it came to a halt. Mustang was up before it had even stopped and his men followed suit right behind him, stepping out onto the platform. The station was mostly empty this evening. Only a few passengers ready to board a train going out, and one or two from the train they had just come from. Outside the station, the streets were empty as the white flakes began to fall, older snow blanketed the quiet street and most of the lights in the city grew dim. 

‘I suppose the Northerners rest for the night earlier then the citizens of Central.’ Havoc thought, following his Superior to what turned out to be the last cab of the night. 

The driver asked, observing their uniforms. “Where are you gentlemen headed? Northern Command Center, I’m guessing?”

“Fort Windsor.” Mustang said quickly as the men began to load their small amount of luggage onto a trailer hitched to the cab. 

“Oh, sorry. No can do, Sir.” The Driver shook his head. 

The men stopped dead in their tracks and stared at the driver. Mustang scowled, “And why not?”

The driver pointed to the sky. “There’s a blizzard coming in fast. It’s rolling in from the East where that fort is. The roads that way are already closed.” 

“But we have to get there, tonight.” Havoc came to the driver. “There must be some way?”

“Sorry, Officers. The roads are closed and they are extremely dangerous.” 

“Please.” Mustang balled his hands into fists at his sides. “It’s an emergency.”

“Like I said before, the roads are already closed. Couldn’t travel ‘em even if I wanted to.”

Mustang called his men in for a huddle.

“We can’t stop here.” Furey said. “We came all this way!”

“Perhaps we just take a rest for the night and go in the morning?” Breda piped in.

“Absolutely not.” Mustang scolded. “We came up here to find her and we are doing just that. We aren’t going anywhere or doing anything else until that happens.”

Havoc sighed. “They said the roads are closed? We can’t get up there. What if we just head to the Northern Command Center and radio in?”

“Not a bad idea,” Breda motioned, “She can talk to us over the radio and explain-“

“No.” Mustang cut them off. “We can’t let anyone else know about Hawkeye’s position, she could be in trouble if anyone finds out...”

Havoc nodded, “I guess she did...technically...forge documents. We want to avoid unnecessary suspicion.”

Furey shivered in the cold. “So what do we do? We should figure it out soon because I’m freezing to death.”

Falman sighed. “I have an idea but you’re not going to like it, General.”

Mustang raised an eyebrow but retained his scowl. “What is it?”

“Briggs.”

“No.”

“General Mustang, Sir?” Havoc spoke with caution. “I hate to say it but, I agree with Falman. General Armstrong might be willing to lend us a favor? They can still radio in and we would be closer to Fort Windsor than if we were to stay here in North City.”

“You think General Armstrong is going to do me any favors?” Mustang almost laughed, “She absolutely will not, she’d kill us first.”

“I’m not so sure.” Falman added, “After the Promised Day, hasn’t Briggs been on good terms with us?”

“And besides,” Havoc said. “If I recall correctly, General Armstrong had a “softer spot” for Lieutenant Hawkeye? She might be willing to help if it involves our Lieutenant?” 

The General thought for a moment, before letting out an aggravated sigh. “Fine but if she kills us, I’m blaming you two.” He pointed at Havoc and Falman before turning on his heel and marching towards the Driver.

“Can you take us to Fort Briggs?”

“Briggs, huh?” The driver scratched his chin in worry. “Well, the storm won’t get there for another half an hour. If we move quickly I can drop you off at the pass.”

“Fine.” Mustang nodded. He and his team loaded into the cab and took off, headed towards the mountains in the distance. The dreaded Northern Wall Of Briggs.


	13. Warzone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez, we are already on chapter 13? Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments, I really love hearing from you guys! So thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Hold on tight!

Chapter 13: Warzone

Road to Fort Briggs, 10:30pm  
The driver of the cab turned up the small road, careful to avoid patches of ice and slowly coming to a stop at a wooden post in the road. He turned to General Mustang.

“Alright soldiers, this is as far as I can take ya. The storm is about to roll in and I’ve gotta be back before I get stuck out here.”

The men looked through the windshield of the cab, up at the path leading into an expanse of nothing but snow. There was a unanimous gulp amongst them.

“Don’t worry,” The Driver smiled, “It’s just a ten minute walk, follow the path going straight. You can’t miss it.”

Mustang nodded and threw open the door, bracing himself against the sudden change in temperature. He walked around and grabbed bags from the trailer while the rest of his team followed suit.

Once they had their bare minimum luggage, they stood as the cab driver waved to them and drove off, a flurry of snow behind him. As the men began their trek up the path, the wind picked up and it’s burn grew on their exposed skin. Suddenly they were ankle deep and struggling with their luggage, their heavy breaths forming clouds around their faces.

Despite the inconvenient weather, Mustang did not stop. He didn’t care how long it would take for them to walk, he would get himself and his men into Briggs and then to Windsor, General Armstrong be damned.

Finally an enormous metal wall stood before them, sturdy and strong as the mountain it was built into. A soldier called out, gun at the ready.

“Stop! State your business with your hands up!”

Mustang put his hands in the air, his men forming a line behind him in similar fashion. They each called out their full name and rank attached.

“I request to see General Armstrong immediately. It is an emergency.” Mustang called out. 

The soldier stepped closer to examine their identifications, backed by three more Briggs men. After authorizing, they signaled for the large doors of the fortress to open, escorting them through the entrance of Briggs. The men sighed in relief as a new warmth exuded through their clothes down to their boots. 

The soldier spoke again as the doors shut behind them. “We have sent for the General, she should be down shortly. Wait here.” His voice was firm and resolute, just as the soldiers of Briggs were trained to be. 

Team Mustang stood in the main foyer of the fort, taking a few minutes to get their bearings. A voice, loud and stern, interrupted them from the landing above. The one and only, General Armstrong.

“Colonel Mustang and his team. What do I owe this displeasure and disrespect of my time?”

Mustang cleared his throat, his face stoic. He had no interest in laying on his usual charismatic manner. “That’s General now, to you.”

“Oh is it?” General Armstrong raised a brow. “I would apologize but frankly I don’t care. Now state your business or get out.”

Mustang stared up at her, having to push down his rage and the panic he had been feeling all day.

“Well?” Her cold, blue eyes never wavered from the man that stood below her. “Out with it!” As she focused on him, Armstrong noticed something very different about his demeanor. It was not his usual antics and he did not use, in her opinion, his grossly overused sense of charm. Instead he stood, rather like a child, angry and terrified all at the same time.

The team watched their Superior hold back his pride as the two generals faced off. “I require your assistance, General Armstrong. You see, I am faced with an emergency of extreme importance.”

General Armstrong was surprised. “And what is such an emergency that you came all this way with no call, not even a warning?”

“It’s Lieutenant Hawkeye.” Mustang said.

“Ah, I noticed she is not at your flank as usual. Where is she?”

“Missing.” Mustang took a deep breath. “She is missing and we wanted to ask for your help. We have reason to believe she is at Fort Windsor.” 

“So why did you come here?” General Armstrong retorted.

“The roads were closed due to the blizzard. We were hoping you could find a way to get us there.”

Armstrong shook her head. “Absolutely not. If there is a blizzard and the road is impassable at the moment, I will not send my men out into the fray. If you were forced to come here, it would be too treacherous to travel. My men can better assist you tomorrow morning when there is a lull in the storm. ”

“Tomorrow?” Mustang swallowed, another rising bubble of frustration in his throat. “I don’t know if we can wait.”

“You’ll have no choice.” She stated firmly. “I’ll put you in a barrack for the night. If I were you I would take it and call me generous. I could’ve thrown you into a cell or boot you back into the cold. Accept my offer or nothing.”

Mustang looked at his team, all of them nodded in reluctant agreement. The proud Flame Alchemist swallowed his pride a second time. “Thank you, General. We will stay and go in the morning.”

General Armstrong cleared her throat. “Before you retire for the night, come to my office immediately. I’d like to discuss with you and your team in private about this situation.”

The team nodded and headed up the stairs, up a few floors and through the fort until they reached her office. She sat behind her desk, poised yet always ready to attack. Mustang had learned to keep a safe, physical distance between them. 

“Explain to me why Lieutenant Hawkeye is missing. Now.”

The group spent nearly half an hour explaining every detail that they knew, the facts and any hypothesis on what might have caused the whole situation. By the end, everyone remained still with confusion and lack of answers. 

General Armstrong broke the silence that had arisen. “I don’t believe it wise to attempt to radio them, it may compromise her position. I will have you escorted to Fort Windsor tomorrow, first thing in the morning when the lull in the storm begins.” 

Mustang’s team saluted and she permitted them to leave. As the men walked out, General Mustang hesitated at the door, turning to the Ice Queen. 

She looked back at him, her demeanor had darkened. “Have you considered that she wouldn’t want you to find her?”

Mustang bit his lip, thinking through before answering. His stomach twisted inside. “I have, many times. But I won’t know until I find her.”

The team stood outside the room, waiting for their superior to leave with them and listened to the two Generals.

“What did you do that would have prompted her to leave?”

“I don’t know...but if it is something I did, I need to fix it.”

“You’re reckless with your subordinates on most days, Mustang.”

Havoc felt heat rise on his face and anger surge through his chest, his teeth clenched. General Armstrong was far too harsh, everyone knew Mustang cared for his men above all else. He reached for the door handle, believing he was actually about to give the Ice Queen a piece of his mind. Mustang’s voice, calm and hinted with sadness, stopped him.

“I know.” He said. “Sometimes they are put in dangerous scenarios, and sometimes they’ve gotten hurt. But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them to return safely. If Lieutenant Hawkeye left intentionally, she may go where she pleases. But I’ll be damned if I stand around and not find her, in case she needs me or any of our team. I will find her.” His voice grew more confident but never wavered in sadness.

General Armstrong huffed and straightened in her chair. “Very well. Now get out of my office.”

Fort Windsor, 9:45pm  
Mass chaos erupted.

After Hawkeye lit her box of cleaner, she ducked under the nearest cover to avoid the explosion. She heard Patrick’s makeshift bomb go off on the other side of the main hall as the room flared with commotion. People were yelling and bullets were being fired, footsteps echoed all around her. Riza knew she had to run. She slowly peeked around the corner to see who was where and when she would be able to make a run for it. The soldiers had followed Lance’s signal and were headed towards their side of the main hall, bullets taking a few of them down. She took a deep breath and found her opening, dashing towards her intended destination. 

Something beside her blew up as she ran past and the force of the blast knocked her into the frame of an unfinished tank. Landing hard, she coughed and rolled over, stumbling to her feet as her adrenaline spiked. Riza’s eyes observed the situation at hand so fast that her body moved instinctively before her mind did, dodging the flurry of bullets raining across the hall from the startled guards. A strange sound manifested from up above, something was soaring and a gust of wind passed over. Looking ahead, she noticed the finished tanks were rumbling out large shells hitting guards and other officers. It was like a line had been drawn in the middle of the main hall, dividing a makeshift battlefield. Another shell was fired, soaring high above and headed straight for her. By the time she realized, Hawkeye knew it was too late and when the shell hit her, she’d be gone. Her hands instinctively rose in defense, waiting for the impact. 

A hand grabbed her uniform, she was pulled to the side and swept out of the way. The blast that landed in her place sent her and her savior flying backwards into some rubble.

Hawkeye’s head was spinning, the ringing in her ears was deafening. She slowly sat up but Patrick stood, helping her up. He had been the one who pulled her out of the way.

“Follow me!” Patrick grabbed Riza again and they dodged and ducked through the scraps and rubble. Riza noticed holes being blown in the walls, snow wafting in from the outside and pieces of the ceiling above them fell to the ground. It felt as though the fort might crumble. Tanks continued their assault, and bullets were being fired from both sides. The two jumped over bodies of soldiers and guards alike. Her calves burned and she gasped for air, the smoke from small fires filled the room. Riza looked up and saw another shell headed for them, this time she pulled Patrick back a few paces. 

The blast still sent them flying once more, and the resulting debris hit the frame of a tank. A piece of the tank fell and landed on Patrick’s leg with an unsettling crunch. He yelled in pain and tried to free himself, failing to do so.

Riza got up and kneeled by him, trying to lift the piece of metal off of him. She grunted in exertion, trying to lift at different angles. Panic set in as she knew she wasn’t strong enough, but that didn’t stop her from frantically trying as Patrick tried to crawl out from underneath it. 

‘He came back for me…’ She screamed in her mind. ‘He came back for me...I have to get him free!’

Amongst all the noise and chaos, everything seemed to slow as Patrick put a hand to her shoulder. “It’s okay...go…”

“Wh-what…?”

Patrick spoke through labored breath. “Go on...leave me behind…”

“No!” Hawkeye used her shoulder to prop the metal up, slowly lifting the metal with a yell. “I won’t!” 

Once there was enough room to wiggle his leg out, he crawled out from underneath and sat up. Riza dropped the metal, letting it land with a thud and kneeled by Patrick, trying to help him up. As she grabbed his arm she noticed blood seeping through her fingers, his arm had been hit by something and he screamed in pain as he tried to stand, his leg turned at an obtuse angle. She lowered him to the ground again. ‘I’ll have to carry him.’

“We gotta go!” She said desperately and moved to the side of him that was broken. “We have to move! Now!” 

“Hawkeye…”

“Give me your arm, damnit.”

“No, Hawkeye please-“

She ignored Patrick and swung his arm around her shoulders, attempting to lift him off the ground and take the weight off his broken leg. Her knees gave out and sent the both of them tumbling to the ground.

“Please...” Patrick pushed her away. “Leave me. Go on. Get out of here.”

“No!” Riza shook her head, trying to help him up again. “I won’t.”

Patrick stopped her again. “Hawkeye, please... Go on. I can’t run, I can’t fight, I can’t...But you can...go!” He shoved her back and settled himself against the frame of the tank.

Hawkeye looked around and noticed the guards that were left were headed their way. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up to them. She punched the tank, heaving in anger, tears brimming in her eyes. “No! I can’t...”

Patrick sighed with a small smile, a surreal image amongst the sounds of shells and bullets still firing off in the distance. “It’s okay. Just go.”

Riza shook her head. ‘Think Riza! Think!’

Then she saw it, a large box that once held gears sat near them. That could work. She ran over to Patrick and using all of her strength, she hoisted him up from under his arms and dragged him over to the opening of the box. She yanked the door open and started to push Patrick inside. 

“Hawkeye! What are you doing?” He asked frantically.

“You’re gonna stay in here!” She propped him up inside the box and packed his broken leg carefully against his good one. “Now don’t make any sound. Don’t move from this spot.” She looked at him with determination. “Do not die! I will come back for you. I promise!” Hawkeye closed the door and continued to run. 

The sound of guards and officers were approaching quickly, they were almost upon her so she changed direction, skidding and slinking behind various debris and tank frames. She looked around carefully before stepping out, ready to bolt.

“Stop right there.”

That voice. Anger boiled inside her as General Boeller stepped out from behind some rubble just ahead of her, blocking her path. Officer Coleman and Officer Marcon flanked him.

“I just knew you had something to do with this.” Boeller was clearly furious. “And you were so promising. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else from one of Mustang’s mutts.”

Hawkeye narrowed her eyes. This was not the time to idle with talk. She needed an escape route and quick. A small wailing sound, like that of a tea kettle, filled her ears. The tank next to her was filling up with steam from a broken engine, the metal expanding and ready to burst.

She looked General Boeller in the eyes and picked up a pair of large pliers laying on the ground. He furrowed his brows in confusion as she jammed them into the side of the tank. Steam spilled out and created a cloud of illusion for her to disappear behind. She turned and ran in the opposite direction again.

After more sprinting in serpentine patterns and avoiding bullets and shells, she somehow managed to make it all the way around the battle, to her established side. Riza noticed that there weren’t a lot of soldiers left from either side. The last of the soldiers had barricaded themselves behind stockpiles of crates and the now empty tanks, aiming their rifles at any officer left. She climbed over a few boxes and joined them, relieved to see a familiar face.

“Lance!” Hawkeye slid over to him.

“Good. You’re still alive!” Lance looked just as relieved to see her, before returning his expression to worry again. “ Where’s Patrick?”

“Safe.” Hawkeye picked up a gun and began to aim. “He is in hiding. He’s injured so we have to go back and get him.”

“So,” Lance said in between shots, “ What you’re saying is...we’ll have to win this battle soon.” 

Riza nodded, shooting at a guard. And for a moment there was no one left to shoot, the main hall descended into quiet. Only the sound of flickering flames and creaking metal could be heard.

“Did we do it?” A soldier asked in a subdued voice. “Did we win?”

Footsteps echoed ahead of them, General Boeller ran towards them with Officer Coleman and Officer Marcon still flanking behind. A few other guards were following suit, all carrying pieces of metal for shielding themselves from the soldier’s bullets. The General and his officers held their shields and kneeled down, holding out until there were no more bullets left in any of the soldier’s guns. 

Riza felt her gun click. Empty. This was it, the last of them and the last of their oppressors.

General Boeller and his men peaked out from behind their pieces of metal, a smile plastered on his face as they rose, the guards with their rifles fully loaded. 

No. They couldn’t win. She looked around for another gun, anything. Her eyes locked on a cannon gun that had been perched on top of a box, it’s occupant long gone. She bent down below the horizon of their barricade, slinking over to the cannon gun.

“Come on out, soldiers.” General Boeller’s voice echoed off the now destroyed walls of Fort Windsor. “Either submit, or we will kill every single one of you.”

Riza popped up and positioned herself behind the cannon gun. The General looked up and locked eyes with her, he glared and bared his teeth. Riza clenched her jaw and cocked the gun. General Boeller’s eyes widened, realizing what she was about to do. She pulled the trigger and fired, the General and his men disappearing amongst an explosion of gunpowder and smoke. 

Lance whipped around to Hawkeye in shock as she stayed frozen behind the cannon gun. She looked around at the men, everyone starting to catch their breath. It was over. She looked at Lance, he stared for a minute before cracking a grin. Riza smiled back.

In the midst of the moment, a small black object clattered to the ground and rolled to the center of the group. 

Riza’s eyes widened. “No!” 

Lance stepped backwards, there was a flash of light and a bang. Everything went black.


	14. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Chapter 14 here we come! I'm so happy that you've all taken this journey with me and continuing to read, and thank you for the lovely comments! They really keep me going! This chapter is a bit shorter, but still exciting nonetheless! There is a small TW for some gore/violence. Just to be safe! Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 14: Fate

The searing pain in her back brought her to consciousness, the ringing in her ears had returned, but this time was so loud she couldn’t discern it from any other noise. Riza forced her eyes open, seeing nothing but a sea of gray smoke and an orange glow illuminating the concrete ceiling from low fires in the room. She coughed, struggling to breathe from the heaviness of the air and a large intake of breath aggravated the pain in her back. ‘Where am I…’ she wondered, trying to use her other senses to put the pieces together. Her hands felt the wood grain of collapsed boxes, the smell of gunpowder and smoke, and something warm slowly oozed down her forehead and past her eye. ‘I must be injured…’ 

Slowly, Hawkeye rolled onto her side and eventually sat up. Putting a hand to her head and flinching at the sting, she realized one side of her face was covered in blood. ‘I must have been hit in the head…but...by what?’ It was so hard to think, and even harder to focus her eyes on the room. Turning her gaze to the side made her stomach clench, threatening to lurch with rising bile.

The bodies of soldiers lay scattered, unmoving, around the sight of a small black object, a flash grenade. 

Riza fumbled, crawling over the crates she had sat atop, not too long ago. Her legs were too weak to stand, so she opted for dragging herself to each body, instinctively checking for a pulse. None. Some were missing limbs, some were nearly unrecognizable. Hawkeye crawled over to the last soldier, laying face down a few paces away. 

Lance.

“Lance...” She wheezed. “Lance..?” Hawkeye shook his shoulders, rolling him over when it earned no response. She gasped at the sight of him, bleeding from a wound on his head and a gash running across the length of his torso, blood pooled onto the ground around him. He coughed and desperately cried out for air. He looked up and reached for her, grabbing the collar of her uniform. 

“G-Go.”

“Lance!” 

“Go. N-Now.” 

Riza shook her head, clutching his hand. “Lance I-”

“H-Hawkeye...take my gloves...g-get yourself out...please.”

Tears blurred the image of his face in her eyes. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t-”

“Don’t w-waste time…” Lance sputtered, blood caking his cracked lips. “You’re still a-alive so...they h-haven’t beaten...us...yet…”

His grasp on her collar grew limp, falling to his chest and his eyes dulled, still keeping his gaze on her.

It was eerily still and silent, except for the crackling of flames and Riza’s sobs. With her chest heaving and fingers trembling, she took Lance’s gloves and jacket. He was right, she needed them if she was going to try to escape. She knew she couldn’t stay here with them. She couldn’t leave to find Patrick either, he wouldn’t make it out there.

Hawkeye stood, finding her bearings and slowly adjusting to the ache in her head. Her eyes searched for an exit, looking over the maze of empty tanks and trashed equipment, the door of the main hall had been blown clean off. Outside the snow was hitting the ground at a rapid pace, the wind howling into the room. The only thing blocking the exit was a mountain of debris to climb and she stopped to doubt her plan. ‘Could I even climb...in my condition?’

It didn’t matter, she resolved. She couldn’t stay here either. Riza staggered through the labyrinth that was now the main hall, and finally, the last obstacle appeared before her. If she could climb this, then she would be out and could find help. Her feet begrudgingly moved forward towards the opening, towards freedom. 

A gunshot rang out, echoing across the main hall. Riza yelped as a new pain spread throughout the back of her thigh, just above her knee. She crumpled to the ground again and cried out, trying to breathe deeply to get a handle on the throbbing of her new wound. Her body twisted to look behind her and saw a shadowy figure approaching. 

General Boeller stepped into focus, face red with rage and eyes filled with malice. His pistol was still smoking out of it’s barrel. As he got closer, she could see he was injured also. He was bleeding from his hip and from a large gash in his cheek. Despite his injuries he was still faring better than her, and he was on a warpath.

“I hoped that you had survived, you rat, so I could kill you myself…” He suddenly grinned dangerously, and her spine tingled with that familiar sense of flight. “And...it looks like I am getting at least that much.”

Riza panted in panic as she tried to crawl backwards, crying as her leg twinged in agony. Her back hit the wall of debris and she had nowhere to go. 

General Boeller limped forward, landing a few feet from her. He aimed the pistol at her head, ready to fire right between her eyes. 

“You can’t keep escaping me. I gave you so many chances...0398.”

Her body instinctively flinched at the pattern of numbers, why was that familiar? She shook her head and trembled, holding her bleeding leg. Her eyes met his, and he sneered back at her.

“Look at you...pathetic.” He spat. “I tried to make you into something. But you...and those other lousy rats, you weren’t willing to listen. And now look what you’ve done!” His voice raised, cracking with anger. Riza tried to understand what he was saying but her head couldn’t manage it, fear had taken over and pain had clouded over every other sense. 

“It’s no matter. This time you really won’t escape, this time, rat...you’re dead.”

Riza’s heart raced, this was it. She looked straight into the barrel of a gun, an object that had once been a source of comfort and protection, would be her demise. She took one last breath and she thought of Mustang. His dark eyes and charming smile, his warm, rich voice telling her that everything was going to be okay. She would resign herself to fate.

General Boeller pulled the trigger. Click. Empty. 

The room was still. And it took a few moments for Riza to realize what had happened. The General had run out of bullets, the shot to kill her never came, she was still alive. 

General Boeller looked down at his pistol, his eyes widening in shock. He looked at Hawkeye and then back to the gun. 

Hawkeye took a deep breath, she had been given another chance. Her adrenaline spiked and she, once again, chose flight over fight. She ignored the suffering of her wounds and turned around quickly, climbing the wall of debris. Anything to get away from here. 

“Damnit!” Boeller yelled and began to climb after her. “You’re not getting away!”

She was nearing the top, finally able to see over the rubble to the landscape shrouded in snow when a hand grasped her ankle, pulling her down roughly. Riza grasped onto a piece of debris for dear life, shrieking in pain as General Boeller held on tightly to her injured leg. She held on and was slowly slipping out of his grasp, ready to propel herself forward, as soon as he let go. His other hand reached up and grabbed her by the waistband of her uniform and, using her as leverage, Boeller inched his way over her legs. Riza turned to look down at him, her eye catching the glint of silver metal as it plunged into her side. The small dagger nestled itself inside her, just above her hip. She couldn’t do anything but hold on as the General tried to bring her further down the pile of rubble, holding on tightly to the dagger. 

“If I am going down…” Boeller glared at her, his hair wild. His appearance and composure had become unhinged. “...then you’re going down with me!”

“N-No...I…” Riza struggled to get him off of her, freeing her good leg and raising the knee to her chest. “I...won’t!” Her boot came down to make contact with General Boeller’s face, resulting in a thunderous crack, sending him tumbling downwards and effectively ripping the dagger from her side in the process. 

Hawkeye did not wait to see if he would get back up and she did not stop to check her wounds. She climbed over the pile and slid down into the snowy abyss, only taking a second to decide her new destination before heading up the mountain towards the outpost. 

Fort Briggs, 1:00am  
Mustang turned over in the bunk once more, feeling more restless than ever. The words of General Armstrong bounced around in his head over and over again. Had he truly done something to Lieutenant Hawkeye? He kept mulling over the request for a leave of absence. If she hadn’t intended to return, why would she have given a deadline to come back?

It was an understatement to say that he knew her so well, and she had never spoken of relatives. She knew only her father with no kin to speak of and a mother who had passed when she was young, with very little knowledge of that side. Grumman was the only known relative, in that case. 

It was in times like these where he selfishly missed the days back East, before the military. When he was just a young and eager alchemy student, sneaking glances at his teacher’s pretty daughter. 

Roy rolled over again and sighed, now facing the rest of the barrack. His men filled various bunks, and even in the dark, he could tell that Furey and Falman were still awake. Havoc dozed but had not fully drifted off, even Breda kept waking up periodically. General Mustang smiled a little, he really was lucky to have them, even if it was her comfort he craved. God, he missed her so much. For someone of little words, his lieutenant always knew what to say, even if he didn’t want to hear it. 

Something else, besides the longing for her, pulled at the edge of his heart. Fear. He knew something was wrong, and it ate away at him, having to just sit here and wait. He hoped she was safe, he hoped that maybe General Armstrong was right and she had left him for something better. At least then she would be safe. ‘Please be okay, Hawkeye...I’m coming for you. Stay safe until I get there…’

Fort Briggs (Communications Sector), 1:30am  
A soldier adjusted his radio, searching for the right signal for the third time. 

“Fort Windsor. Do you come in, Fort Windsor? This is Briggs station number three, requesting your midnight check in, do you copy?”

Silence. 

He turned to the other soldiers in the room. “I’ve been trying for over an hour but I can’t get through.”

“Maybe their signal is down?” Another said. “Their lines may have been affected by the blizzard.”

“I suppose…” The soldier looked down at the radio, feeling uneasy about the lack of response. Their new, sister fort had never failed to meet their routine check in before. “I guess I’ll try a few more times, just to be safe.”

The soldier tried the radio again, attempting to get any kind of answer from Fort Windsor but would soon find that there would be nothing but silence for the rest of the night.


	15. Hellscape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 15, here we come! Thank you all so much for you wonderful comments and support of this story! I am happy to announce that this chapter is a bit longer and you get to see the Mustang team in some action! Anyways, let me know what y'all think! Thank you for reading! :)

Chapter 15: Hellscape

Fort Windsor Outpost, 1:00am  
Hawkeye crawled up the snowy banks of the mountain towards the outpost. It was dark and the wind wailed furiously around her, she could barely see ahead of her and had to rely on previous experience. She knew as long as she kept going up, she was bound to find it. Her fingers were aching from the cold, but the pain in her thigh and abdomen were more distracting. 

‘I can’t stop now...he could try to follow me...I have to call for help…’ Riza was terrified of looking behind her, not just from the pain of twisting her side and irritating the wound, but also the fear of seeing his face climbing up behind her. Would General Boeller come all this way just to stop her? Or would he assume that if she didn’t die from her wounds, she would die from exposure? Riza didn’t know, but since he hadn’t shown up yet, she assumed the latter. Dying was a possibility, even if she didn’t want to admit it. 

The wound in her side flared and she stopped her ascent for a moment, reaching her hand to it and feeling the blood still seeping into the fabric of her uniform. ‘Damnit...it hasn’t stopped…’. The bullet in her thigh was not doing much better, still debilitating her from walking completely upright. Hawkeye chided herself. She had to count herself lucky that the dagger hadn’t been very long and it most likely hadn’t severed any organs, but it was still concerning nonetheless. It was hard to stop an injury from bleeding when you had to run for your life through a blizzard. 

Riza took a deep breath to get through another wave of pain, then continued her climb as soon as it subsided back to a milder state. The outpost had to be close, she knew the longer she was outside, the more risk to her limbs and appendages were apparent. 

‘But what happens when I get there?’ She worried. ‘Will they try to stop me? Do they know what happened below? Would they kill me on General Boeller’s orders?’ It didn’t matter, she was almost there and it would be the quickest way to get some help. If she could radio call to Briggs, then they could come to her rescue. It didn’t matter if the outpost soldiers were on her side or not, she would fight them if she had to. 

Riza pulled herself up over the crest onto the cliffside, the outpost now meters away. She could barely make out the shape of the building amongst the storm, but the light outside gave it away. Getting as close as she could, she hid behind the railing and waited, watching. No one was posted outside, how unusual. Hawkeye recalled almost two soldiers outside the door at all times, but perhaps the weather was too much for them to do so. After some time in the cold, she creeped slowly up the steps and carefully positioned herself outside the wooden doorframe. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for movement, but found it to be difficult with the overpowering sound of the wind. Her hand reached up and slowly turned the knob, opening the door just enough to peek inside. It didn’t take long for her to realize that there was no threat left in this building. 

Crawling inside, Riza looked at the bodies of the outpost soldiers slumped in their chairs or collapsed on the ground, gunshots to their heads. No one had been left alive here. She carefully brought herself up to stand, using the wall for balance and shutting the door quietly, just in case she wasn’t alone. 

Hawkeye limped over to the soldiers, finding most of the gunshots were self-inflicted. Her confusion only grew as she tried to sort out the scene logically, theorizing that they must have been ordered to end their own lives. The smell of blood was intense and her stomach churned. While she was grateful that she didn’t have to fight them, she was appalled at the state of the scene. 

‘How could anyone have let this happen…?’ 

Hawkeye shook her head. She didn’t have time to dwell, it was important for her not to waste anymore time. Reaching for the radio and pulling out a list of the correct stations, she tuned it to Briggs only to find the sound of static.

“Briggs? I’m calling for Fort Briggs. Does anyone copy?”

No answer.

“Hello? This is a message to Fort Briggs from Fort Windsor. Does anyone copy? Please come in! Hello?”

Still no answer.

“Hello? Anyone? Please! This is a distress call! Does anyone copy? Hello?” Riza trembled, her voice growing in desperation. “Please...Someone! Please help!” 

She frantically searched for the correct line to the Northern Command Center. No answer. Central Command. No answer. Eastern Command. Western Command. She even tried the Southern Command Center before tuning it back to Briggs. Still, Riza was met with silence.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was all alone. The sobs in her chest sent sharp pains through her torso and when she fell to her knee, the bullet wound seared with agony. Her breath returned to panting as she clutched her side. Looking down, blood was flowing into small pools on the floorboards, her injuries were only getting worse. 

Having lowered herself to the ground, she could now see underneath the tables where the radios sat atop. The wires had been cut, most likely with a knife. She turned to the corner where the telegraph had sat, only to find it smashed and damaged beyond any kind repair she would have been able to manage. 

“Okay…” Riza grunted as she moved herself into a sitting position. “What...the hell am I...supposed to do now?”

A sound outside the door caught her attention, and she waited. Was it General Boeller? Had he followed her? Riza waited longer, not daring to make a move and her heartbeat thumped wildly in her ears. When nothing came, she released the breath she had been holding and closed her eyes. It would be so much easier to just lay down, to go to sleep and hope for a miracle. But the sound had spooked her too much, it was possible that the General would come here too. She couldn’t stay. 

She opened her eyes and wiped her forehead, seeing the blood on her sleeve reminded her of the gash in her forehead, and it brought the stinging sensation back to the forefront. ‘Damn...I had forgotten about that one too…’ 

Hawkeye sighed and quickly decided on an order of operations. Patch up injuries, prepare supplies, then head out in a timely manner. Her organizational instincts took over and she rummaged around the outpost, only finding a mildly useful first aid kit. She put a cloth rag in her mouth and bit down, screaming through it as she stuffed her stab wound with gauze. Then she warped her entire torso with a long, cloth bandage before moving onto her thigh. She applied pressure to the gunshot then wrapped it as best as she could with another long, cloth bandage. Riza looked around for a mirror of some kind to assess the gash in her forehead but couldn’t find one, so she carefully took a piece of gauze and tested the pain of each area until she found it just below her hairline. She taped the gauze there, not stopping to clean her face. 

In her rummaging, she had also found a spare uniform and decided to put it over the one she was already wearing. It would protect her now wrapped injuries and it would keep her warmer. She stole two pairs of socks from the bin where the uniform had been found, having to take off her boots at an agonizing pace. She stole two pairs of gloves and put them over hers and the ones that Lance had given her. Riza adjusted her coat and put the hood over her head. She limped over to a large map on the wall, remembering it from the last time she had been inside the outpost. 

“Where to go…” Riza wondered, looking over trails and paths to different locations. She could not return to Fort Windsor, that was a given. The Northern Command Center was closer, should she go East towards the Command Center? She replayed a conversation she had once had with Keller about how Boeller may have connections there. That would not play out well for her if the General had gone that way too. Fort Briggs was farther away but at least she knew there were people she could trust there. As her eyes scanned the western direction towards Briggs, a small dot caught her attention. Looking closer, she read that it was an abandoned outpost that had been built before Windsor was finished. That outpost sat just outside the mouth of the canyon to Briggs.

‘Got it.’ Riza decided. She could head there, take shelter from the storm and then head into the canyon to get to Fort Briggs. That would be her best bet. 

Hawkeye turned towards the door and hobbled over to it, opening the doorway to the snowy landscape. The wind was still howling and the cold immediately seeped past the newly added layers of clothes down to her skin. Riza shivered and tried to look up into the sky, knowing somewhere beyond those storm clouds was a sky of night stars. And just beyond this snow was a fortress of help waiting for her.

Fort Briggs, 6:00am  
Roy opened his eyes at the sound of the door to the barrack opening, immediately sitting up at the sight of a Briggs soldier. 

“General Mustang, Sir. There is a lull in the storm and a truck has been prepared for you. And General Armstrong would like to speak with you, she is waiting by the entrance.” The Briggs soldier saluted before leaving promptly.

Falman and Furey had woken as soon as Mustang had, Havoc had not been far behind and nudged Breda awake. 

“You heard him. Let’s get ready and move out.” Mustang ordered and began changing back into his uniform, his team following suit. 

It did not take long for the men to be ready, heading towards the entrance to Briggs. Just as the soldier had said, General Armstrong was waiting by the doors, donned in gloves and large coat, her sword at the ready in it’s hilt. 

“General Armstrong.” Mustang greeted, still reserving his usual charm for it was not the time. He noted she looked prepared for travel. “Are you joining us?” 

“Mustang.” She retorted. “I have a matter of concern that deserves my attention.”

Mustang quirked an eyebrow, irritated that he would have to deal with her for longer than he had ever intended to. 

“Fort Windsor did not reply to their midnight check in. We don’t usually have much contact with them, however they have never missed a check in. And seeing as how the disappearance of your Lieutenant is involved, I thought it best to accompany you.”

The men were just as surprised as Mustang. Furey stuttered. “Y-You mean you haven’t heard from them at all?”

“My men attempted to radio and telegraph them, we were met with silence. As soon as it was reported to me, I arranged for Major Miles to take a team out to the Fort ahead of us.” General Armstrong narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

“And you didn’t think to inform me as soon as it was reported?” Mustang glared.

“What could you have done? Rush out into a blizzard like an idiot?” She sneered. “Some cavalry you would be, dying of hypothermia ten minutes into your hike. Major Miles left only about thirty minutes ago.”

General Mustang went to retort but stopped himself. It was foolish to continue arguing, they were wasting time. He swallowed his pride for the third time since he had arrived. “The truck is ready to take us then?”

Armstrong turned on her heel and led them to a truck, taking the spot furthest away, her back to the soldier driving. Mustang came to sit next to her, crossing his arms and assuming a stoic position. The team filed in, filling the rest of the seats and looking away from the two Generals. 

Havoc sighed. ‘This is gonna be a long ride.’ He rubbed his lower back where the ache from his old injury was. Mustang had healed it but it still appeared in times of stress. The long train ride and now this truck weren’t making it any better. He looked at the rest of the team, Furey was biting his lip, the poor guy had been worrying himself sick. Falman looked exhausted and Breda too. There was some extra strain on a situation when you had more questions than answers, and even more strain when it concerned someone you held so dearly. Lieutenant Havoc leaned back against the frame of the truck as it jostled. ‘You better be okay, Hawkeye…’

The drive had been quiet, no one had dared to speak. The Ice Queen radiated a dangerous energy but for once, Mustang’s seemed more so. The closer they got, the more anxious they were, what would they find when they got there? Would Hawkeye be happy and thriving in a new place having actually deserted them? Or would they be rescuing her from some kind of danger? Would she even be there at all?

Suddenly, the jostling of the truck stopped and Armstrong whipped around to the driver. “Why have we stopped? The Fort is up that hill.”

“I know, Sir. But one of our men is signaling for us to stop.”

“What do you think is going on?” Furey whispered to Havoc who shrugged as they watched the scene unfold.

“I don’t know...but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

A Briggs soldier came up to the driver’s window and the two began talking. A now infuriated General Mustang stood and hopped out of the truck, followed by General Armstrong. The two generals walked around the truck to the soldier standing there, the team of men leapt out of the truck and followed them. Their boots crunched in the snow and they shivered from a bitter sweep of wind.

“What is the meaning of this?” Armstrong demanded from the soldier who winced under the weight of her glare, and sunk even further under Mustang's. 

“U-uh, General Armstrong, Sir.” He saluted. “I have an urgent update from Major Miles. It could not wait so I was ordered to run down the road until your truck came upon me. It is a warning.”

“Warning for what?” Mustang huffed.

The Briggs soldier grew pale, almost sickly. “It’s the Fort, Sir...you see...it’s…”

“Spit it out!” General Armstrong didn’t care what the appearance of this soldier was, she needed immediate answers. 

“The Fort...e-everyone’s dead, Sir.”

Mustang’s stomach dropped. 

Armstrong’s eyes widened, she grew furious. “Explain!”

“When we arrived, there were notable chunks missing from the wall of the fort. We did a thorough sweep of its corridors and...no one has been found alive.”

“Was it a Drachman attack?” She asked.

“That’s the thing, Sir...it’s strange. There doesn’t appear to be any sort of outside interference. It's as if the attack came from the inside.”

Havoc put a hand on Furey’s shaking shoulder.

“So...they’re all dead? Does...does that mean Lieutenant Ha-” Furey was interrupted by Mustang, his dark eyes were closed in an attempt to keep composure. 

“Don’t say it.”

Havoc noticed the tremble in their General’s voice and gripped Furey’s shoulder tighter. “We still don’t know for sure if she’s there or not.” He said quietly. 

“There’s only one way to find out.” Breda said.

General Mustang stood still, fearing that if he moved the entire world would fall apart. His mind raced ‘If she was at the fort...then she’s...no. I don’t know that for sure.’

General Armstrong took the lead, sensing Mustang’s dismay. “Let’s keep going. We will do a thorough investigation ourselves.”

The men quickly stepped back into the truck, the Briggs soldier accompanying them. He informed the group about a few other odd things that had been noted, such as strange uniforms and even stranger equipment on the upper floors. 

“...and it looked like they were building up their own stash of tanks and weapons. From what we can estimate, the attack happened recently, most likely within the last twenty four hours.”

General Mustang crossed his arms, deep in thought. ‘This situation gets weirder by the second, and all the more dangerous.’ He lingered on a thought of Riza. He couldn’t lose her, not like he almost had before and not like Hughes. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. Closing his eyes he saw her smile, heard her voice and for a moment he felt her presence. If he hadn’t felt the wall of the truck at his back, he would’ve turned around to check and see if she was standing behind him, as she almost always was. ‘She can’t be. She can’t be…’ 

His eyes shot open as the truck came to another halt, this time at their destination. General Mustang was already ankle deep in the snow before anyone else had even gotten up, but it did not take long for the group to follow. As they rounded the truck they all stopped dead in their tracks, still from the sight of the fort. 

It’s walls were tall, not quite the height and intimidation as Fort Briggs, but still towering nonetheless. A gaping hole had been blown out on one side, debris and rubble piling up around it. From the moment they saw it, there was a shiver that ran down the spines of each of them and not from the cold temperature. 

“General Armstrong!” A familiar face called out to her, standing by the mouth of the blasted opening. Major Miles flagged them over, ready to lead them inside. “Watch your step. The rubble is unsteady.”

The two generals and the team climbed over the rubble and carefully helped each other down onto the main floor of a giant room. Mustang turned to look over the landscape of destruction, bile rising in his throat. The air was thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder, tanks sat empty and pieces of the wall and ceiling littered the ground. Bullets and empty rifles were scattered about, and there were identifiable places where tank shells and grenades had exploded. The briggs soldiers that had arrived before them had done an expert job of lining up the bodies of soldiers in neat, single file rows, some of the bodies were covered and some were not.

Mustang did not move, his knees weakened and he feared he might collapse. She couldn’t be one of those bodies, right? He wanted to believe that she wouldn’t be lying there with those soldiers. But fear gripped him and the bile in his throat threatened to escape him. Then a surge of anger boiled in his blood, anger at whoever caused this and anger at himself for not figuring it out sooner. 

The men were silent behind their superior, terrified of what or who they would find in this place. General Armstrong, however, noticed Mustang’s fists clench in rage. She did not look at him directly, but spoke to him specifically.

“General Mustang...don’t do anything rash.”

He took a deep breath. He knew Armstrong was right and he almost laughed, it’s what Hawkeye would have said too. He turned to his men and seeing their expressions reminded him of how this was hard for them too. Mustang cleared his throat and gave out a single order.

“Search every single soldier. Find her.”

They saluted and suppressed their emotions, each splitting up to search a different row. Havoc knelt down next to the first soldier, biting his lip as he pulled back the cloth covering. A conflicted sigh of relief was exhaled from his lips. ‘It’s not her…’ He went down the line, checking each of the bodies while trying to identify some of them. He noticed a few soldiers from Central and a few from the East. 

“Damn…” Havoc muttered as he covered up the last soldier in his row. He looked up and saw Furey replace a covering over a soldier and sigh. The lieutenant went to kneel next to the Sargent. “Anything to report?”

“No…” Furey sighed again. “At least...not the one we’re looking for. I did recognize a soldier or two from other command centers. It’s just…”

Havoc watched Furey tremble, looking down at the ground. “It’s just…?”

“I’m terrified…” The Sargent continued. “I’m terrified that the next soldier I uncover is going to be her...or even worse, it’ll be Mustang who finds her…”

“I know…” Havoc nodded, patting Furey’s shoulder again. “But we’ve gotta keep going. We have to be ready in case…” His blue eyes looked up at Mustang searching bodies in his own row. “In case our General needs us to pick up the pieces.”

The two returned to work and after a while, it came down to the last row. The men convened near the last body, Mustang stooping down to uncover it. It revealed just another soldier, not a single one of these bodies was Hawkeye’s.

General Mustang was unsure about how he should feel, relieved that they didn’t find her? Or worried that they hadn’t?

“Not a single one was her.” Falman crossed his arms in thought. “Maybe she was never here at all.”

“But then where could she be?” Furey inquired. “If not here then where, Faye said she was most likely here?”

Breda turned to a Briggs soldier nearby. “You’re sure these are all the bodies? You haven’t found any others?”

The Briggs soldier shook his head. “Those are all the ones we’ve pulled. They were all congregated down here, except for that row of soldiers in white coats. Those ones were pulled from upstairs. We are still searching the rubble, but this is as far as we’ve gotten.”

“Understood.” Mustang stood again . “Then we should help them search the debris.”

The men nodded but before they could head off to assist, General Armstrong called to them from across the main hall. She was walking briskly towards them with Miles at her flank. 

“We found some more strange occurrences within these walls.” She held on to the hilt of her sword as she spoke. “It seems if your Lieutenant had been here, then she wouldn’t be the only one unaccounted for. The General in charge of this fort has yet to be identified.”

“Who was the General in charge?” Mustang asked.

“General Aeron Boeller. His body has not been recovered.”

Falman spoke up. “Have we checked the main offices for records of soldiers that were here? That might help us with how many have yet to be found.”

“Unfortunately, it seems as though the main office was hit by one of the grenades and most of the work in there has been destroyed.” Armstrong huffed. “Whatever happened in here is reaching beyond what I would’ve imagined. Oh, and there’s something else too.”

Major Miles took over speaking at Armstrong’s request. “We sent a few soldiers to check up on the outpost, it’s on a cliffside above us. They informed us that the soldiers up there have also been killed. Most likely in some manner of suicide, the radio wires were cut and the telegraph was smashed.”

“That’s why they never responded to their midnight check in.” Furey pointed out.

“Exactly.” Armstrong said. “There’s much more to this than meets the eye. My men will be acquiring whatever pieces of evidence they can and bring it back to Briggs so that we may investigate.”

“My men and I will continue to search here.” General Mustang added. “But I do want to look over any evidence I can.”

“Understood.” She nodded. “I will make sure you have a chance to before turning it over to any higher ups. There is something underhanded about all of this and you never know who you can trust.”

As the two generals agreed on a plan, the team saluted but before anyone could move, a commotion sounded from across the main hall. 

A Briggs soldier called out to the others. “We’ve got a live one over here! Get a medic stat!”

General Mustang’s heart raced as he sprinted in the direction of the voices, followed closely by his team. General Armstrong and Major Miles were not far behind.

‘This is it. It has to be her. Please, let it be her.’ Mustang begged.

Mustang skidded to a halt upon seeing a few Briggs men pulling out a soldier from inside a crate. A soldier with broken glasses and a broken leg.


	16. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I had some extra time these last few days and I honestly couldn't wait, so here's another chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this one ;) And thank you to all my awesome readers and for all the awesome comments! Lemme know whatcha think!

Chapter 16: Hope

Somewhere in the snow, 6:00am   
Riza grunted as a sharp pain ran up the side of her leg, trying to shift her weight as she trudged through the snow. The blizzard had finally tamed itself to just a grey sky and a cold chill in the air, it must have been sometime in the early morning hours. She looked ahead of her once more and shuddered. ‘I hope I’ve gone the right way...you’d think I would’ve found the abandoned outpost by now.’ Her eyes scanned the terrain and only found a white surface with mountains in the distance, a few trees sprinkling the area. ‘I have to find shelter soon...I’m starting to get dizzy…’ 

The clouds above her moved at a rapid pace, threatening to rage a storm again at any moment. Even in her state, she still managed to stay alert of surroundings, terrified of something looming in the shadows. So far, there had been no indication that she had been followed, but Riza did not let her guard down.

Her entire body ached for rest, she desperately wanted to sleep away the intensity of her injuries. If only she could find her destination. 

Riza looked up to the sky. ‘I just want to sleep…but I can’t stop now...he must be waiting for me...right?’ Another wave of determination flowed through her bloodstream, and she marched on. 

In the distance, the shape of a building came into view. A little one-room shack, taken over by the elements, stood amongst a few large pines. There sat the abandoned outpost. Riza quickened her pace and finally reached the wooden frame, using her shoulder to budge the old, decaying door open, and made her way inside.

It was slightly warmer inside, and even warmer when she pushed the door closed and propped a chair in front of the handle, to prevent any possible intruder. Holding herself up using the wall, Riza looked around the small room. Places where radios had sat were now empty and mostly everything was gone, aside from a few boxes and an empty fireplace. Hawkeye hobbled over and slowly kneeled by one of the boxes, hoping for something useful. This box held a jug of unopened water and after much force, it cracked open. She nearly cried when the liquid touched her cracked lips. Riza sipped feverishly, as much of the water as she could, some of it had unfortunately frozen inside the jug and was undrinkable at the moment. She shivered as she wiped the cold water from her mouth and felt the chill resonate throughout her body. ‘I need to find a source of warmth.’

Hawkeye saw another box in the corner of the room, but when she attempted to stand, she fell back to her knees and whimpered. ‘Okay...I’ll have to crawl then.’

She slid across the floor, feeling her stab wound flare up and her injured leg twitched in irritation. Finally making it to the box, she took off the lid and found a few pieces of dry wood, some coals, and a blanket. Perfect. 

It took the longest time to start a fire in the hearth of the fireplace, but once it was roaring to life she felt quite pleased with her skills. It would last for at least a solid few hours. Riza wrapped the blanket around herself and watched the flames dance, her eyesight blurring and the room began to spin. The decline of her adrenaline crashed into her and suddenly the throbbing of the wound in her side made her sick and she clutched her abdomen, feeling a wet substance seeping through the cloth bandage.

“D-Damn…” Riza grunted, trying to apply pressure. “I must have...opened it more…”

Dizziness overcame her and the next thing she knew, the side of her face was touching the wood floor and her stomach churned. Her eyelids drooped in the firelight and she groaned in agony, slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

Fort Windsor, 7:30am (cont.)  
A Briggs soldier called out to the others. “We’ve got a live one over here! Get a medic stat!”

General Mustang’s heart raced as he sprinted in the direction of the voices, followed closely by his team. General Armstrong and Major Miles were not far behind.

‘This is it. It has to be her. Please, let it be her.’ Mustang begged.

Mustang skidded to a halt upon seeing a few Briggs men pulling out a soldier from inside a crate. A soldier with broken glasses and a broken leg.

The General’s hope vanished and he leaned on a pile of rubble for support, putting his head in his hands. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to compose himself. They   
needed to keep searching.

He felt a hand grasp his shoulder, looking up and seeing Havoc next to him watching the Briggs men carefully place the injured soldier onto a stretcher. “We’ll keep searching the rubble.” The second Lieutenant said assuredly. Mustang nodded and stood, giving each member of his team an area to search.

General Armstrong approached him once again. “General Mustang, the injured soldier is on his way to Briggs as we speak. Once we have completed a thorough search here, I will escort your team back and we will ask questions. He may have the information that we need.”

“Believe me,” Mustang narrowed his eyes, “he will give me answers.”

Fort Briggs, 2:00pm  
The hours spent digging through the debris and rubble had turned up nothing new, and no sign of Hawkeye anywhere. With that, Mustang and his team were escorted back to Fort Briggs by General Armstrong and Major Miles. Some Briggs men stayed behind to gather anything left of interest before heading back. As the group got out of the truck and headed inside, shrugging off their cold jackets, they headed up to the showers for a quick freshen up. 

Mustang was first out and met with General Armstrong in her office once again, soon joined by the rest of the team. She folded her hands on the desk in front of her, ready to discuss a plan of action. 

“I have word that the soldier is in a stable condition. He was extremely dehydrated and weakened from hunger, paired with multiple bruises, burns and a broken leg. They have reset his leg and he is ready to speak with us. I will allow you and your men to take the lead on this, General.”

“Thank you.” Mustang agreed, already starting towards the door. 

“Uh, General Mustang, Sir?” Havoc stopped him in his pursuit for the exit. “Maybe it would be best if we asked the questions?”

“What do you mean by that, second Lieutenant?” 

Falman interjected carefully. “I think what he means is that it would be better if you were able to listen fully and not have to worry about asking the questions.”

Mustang sighed and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

The men exhaled in relief. They knew General Mustang could keep his cool, however, they understood better than anyone how intimidating their superior could be. It would be best for the two Generals to stand back while they interviewed this soldier.

Mustang looked at Havoc, pulling something from his pocket and slipping it into his second Lieutenant’s hand. “You know what to do.”

The group headed downstairs to the infirmary ward with hasty steps. They were all anxious to hopefully receive some answers as to what happened. They entered a small waiting room area while Major Miles led them through a door, down a hall and into a room. 

Patrick sat, propped up in bed with an IV bag hooked up to his arm. He was pale and his eyes were swallowed by grey circles underneath them, still wearing his glasses with a cracked lens. He immediately turned to the group of military officers entering the room and watched them with a worried expression. 

General Armstrong and General Mustang stood against the wall, while Falman and Breda stood by the door. Furey and Havoc nodded to each other and approached the soldier in the bed. 

“Afternoon. I am Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc and this is Sargent Kain Furey. We’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s alright?”

“O-Oh. Of course.” Patrick said in a meek voice. 

Furey started first. “What is your name?”

“Patrick Dawes, Sir.” His eyes looked around nervously at all the soldiers, gulping at Falman who began to scratch notes in a notepad, though he was unsure of why that made him feel uneasy.

“And what were you doing at Fort Windsor?” Havoc asked.

“I was called at random, Sir. I was sent a letter for my immediate transfer.”

“When we arrived at the Fort this morning, it was in a complete disarray.” Furey stated.

“Can you tell us what happened there?” Havoc asked.

Patrick’s eyes widened, he shuddered. “Where do I begin?”

“From the beginning, if you can?” Furey said politely.

Patrick felt all eyes on him, and he took a deep breath. Mustang watched the soldier carefully, putting his hands in his pockets to quiet his nervous fidgeting. 

Patrick started to explain the situation beginning with his odd arrival at Fort Windsor, from the strange and invasive physical, the new uniforms, the stolen identifications to the initial mistreatment. Furey and Havoc prompted for more, which the soldier obliged, trying to remember the details.

“...and then, there was a punishment that was given to a small group of us. The General in charge came down himself. He ordered us to strip down to our undergarments and told us to go out into the snow at night. One of the soldiers that was with us talked back in an attempt to ease our punishment, but it only resulted in the General shooting one of the other men. A soldier named Malcom. We were forced to carry him outside. W-We...we tried to save him, but...we couldn’t and we almost froze to death but were brought back inside at the last minute.” 

The men were shocked by the story, how could any of this have been allowed to happen? Furey swallowed and spoke next. 

“That’s horrible. Was anyone outside the Fort notified of Malcom’s death?”

“It was explained to the rest of the soldiers in the Fort that it was the result of a Drachman attack. I don’t believe it was reported to any command center and...I don’t know what they did with his body.We weren’t allowed to call or send letters to anyone outside the Fort. It was a well known fact that not a single transfer request was put through and only a select few were allowed in the outpost where the radios were kept.”

“What happened after Malcom’s death?” Havoc inquired.

Patrick took a deep breath and tried to retrace the events that had occurred. “We were made to continue long hours of hard labor, building weapons and running drills. We grew weaker by the day...they became stingy with food, kept us locked in our barracks at night and only let us rest for short periods of time. A few of us tried to escape…”

“Escape? You mean...you tried to run from the Fort?” Furey asked for clarification. 

“Y-Yes…” Patrick trembled at the memory. “It was terrifying...We had to fight a soldier in the kitchen who tried to alert the officers of our plan. An alarm went off and they started   
looking for us, we were forced to flee into the air ducts...but they smoked us out and we were caught. I-I’ve never been so scared in my life…I thought they were going to kill us…”

“What happened after that? Were you given a punishment?” Havoc handed Patrick a tissue at the sight of the soldier’s eyes misting with tears. 

“I-I think so...they hit us with something that lit up and I blacked out...after that, there is so much I can’t remember...it’s like...there are times where it’s like pieces of my memory are just...gone...I just remember waking up periodically with burns...or sometimes I’d be covered in water...and they always just put us back to work…”

“You can’t remember things that happened after that?” Furey confirmed with the soldier. 

“I-I’m sorry...I’m trying...I just...I don’t know why I can’t remember…” Patrick shook his head. “I do remember other things, like when they shot at us in the main hall, soldiers going missing here and there…”

“That’s okay, just remember what you can. What happened to the Fort yesterday? Why did it look like a warzone?” Havoc asked.

Patrick continued, recollecting the memories of the night before. “Something exploded...it was a box of cleaner that had caught fire and we realized they were flammable...we set them off, hoping to fight the officers who had been mistreating us...tanks were rolling out, guns were being fired...all hell broke loose...I...I remember running...I got injured and was shoved inside a crate by a fellow soldier...I’m not sure how long the fighting lasted, it was dark inside the crate and...I fell in and out of consciousness, it wasn’t until you all found me that I realized it was over…”

Furey nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry you went through all of that. Please, know that we appreciate your cooperation and for telling us everything you can remember.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more detailed...I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“It’s alright, you’ve been through a lot.” Furey tried to reassure the soldier. “If you do happen to remember anything else, please let us know.”

“I’ll do my best.” Patrick nodded. “I want to help.”

General Mustang had listened to every word of the soldier’s story, this situation really was something beyond what they could have imagined. His heart ached, knowing that his team must be having the exact same thought as him. ‘Please tell me that Hawkeye wasn’t there, that she wasn’t stuck there in those conditions.’

Mustang looked at Havoc, signaling him to proceed. The second Lieutenant nodded and put a hand to his pocket, pulling out what the General had slipped into his hand earlier.   
Havoc turned back to Patrick. “Dawes, do you mind if I ask you another question? It’s a little more personal to us, if you don’t mind?”

Patrick blinked in surprise. “O-oh, of course.”

The air in the room became thick with anticipation. The men watched the exchange between Havoc and Patrick with rapt attention.

The second Lieutenant produced the photograph of their team that Mustang had taken from Hawkeye’s apartment a few weeks ago. He handed the photo to the soldier. “The woman in this photograph...do you recognize her?”

Patrick took the photograph in his hands and leaned in to get a better look, adjusting his glasses accordingly. When the image came into focus, he noticed the woman that the Lieutenant had asked about. His eyes widened and his breath hitched, then his voice broke through the air just barely above a whisper.

“Y-Yeah...that’s Hawkeye…”

Havoc swallowed hard. “Was she there? At the Fort?” 

Patrick looked up at Havoc and nodded. “Yes…”

Mustang rushed to the edge of the bed, eyes wide with fear. “You’re absolutely sure about that?”

The soldier nodded his head once more. “I’m positive. There was a small group of us that kinda stuck together...Hawkeye was one of them. In fact…” His lip trembled. “...she was the soldier who spoke out against the General when Malcom was killed...and she was one of the soldiers who I tried to escape with...she was there.”

“Did something happen to her?” General Armstrong asked pointedly and Mustang felt as though he was going to be sick.

The room waited for Patrick to respond. He gripped the sheets with his fists, on the verge of tears. “Does that mean y-you didn’t find her?”

Patrick took their silence as an answer.

“I know she was alive during the battle. It was her and I that set the boxes of cleaner on fire, and I pulled her out of the way of a tank shell...and she’s the one who dragged me to the crate and stuffed me inside when I injured my leg…”

“She saved you?” Mustang shook his head, unable to ignore the small swell of pride knowing that, even in her possible last moments, she had helped someone else. 

“If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t be here.” Patrick smiled and wiped a tear underneath his glasses. “I told her to leave me behind but she refused.”

Breda crossed his arms, looking down sadly. “That sounds like something she’d do.”

“Dawes?” Falman interjected. “Was that the last time you saw her?”

Patrick nodded again. “She told me she would come back for me. We had this sort of deal, you see...she told me she’d help me get back to my family alive if I…” He looked at Mustang, suddenly realizing that the Flame Alchemist was standing right in front of him. “...if I helped her get back to Central. To get back to you, S-Sir. She told me she would come back for me...but she never did…”

Mustang made eye contact with Patrick, a silent thank you passing between them. The General took a deep breath. “Alright. If it was important to my Lieutenant that you return home safely, then know that I will do what I can to help you. May I ask one more thing of you?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

“We didn’t find her body. Do you think it’s possible that she is still alive somewhere? And if so, where do you think she would have gone?”

Patrick thought for a moment, trying to think back and trying to find some kind of answer. All these men had come looking for his friend, and now he could see why Hawkeye had remained so loyal to Roy Mustang and his team. He had to give them something, some kind of hope. 

“Well...I think that Hawkeye is one of the strongest soldiers I‘ve ever met. If you didn’t find her, then she must be out there somewhere.” Patrick suddenly had a thought flood back to him. “Oh! When we tried to escape...we had a route planned. We decided that we would head towards the Northern Command Center because it was less dangerous to walk that way, than to go through the canyon to Briggs. I would check the wilderness in between Fort Windsor and North City.”

Mustang nodded and signaled his men to prepare for a search. “Then that’s where we’ll start.”

General Armstrong walked towards the soldier, and she outstretched her hand to him. “Dawes, since General Mustang will be quite preoccupied with the search, I will personally see to it that you have an escort home. A few of my men will take you home as soon as you are ready.”

“Thank you, Generals. I appreciate it, from you both.” Patrick shook Armstrong’s hand.

The group turned to leave, but Patrick held out his hand to Mustang. “When you find Hawkeye…” His eyes welled up with tears again, his voice hoarse. “...tell her, thank you.”

Wilderness between Fort Windsor and North City, 6:00pm  
The wind had picked up and the grey sky had turned darker, the storm was returning. Snow began to flurry down from above, coating the already thick layer on the ground. Havoc cupped his hands over his mouth to louden his call for Hawkeye. Echos of her name came from the rest of the team scattered about this frozen forest. 

‘It’s a good thing these Briggs men know their way around or else we’d be lost.’ Havoc thought to himself as he shivered.   
Breda and Falman were up ahead near General Mustang, calling out for the Lieutenant in the hope of some reply. Havoc looked behind him to see Furey struggling in the snow,   
trying to keep up with the group.

“I don’t usually mind being short, but this is ridiculous!” Furey huffed while Havoc helped him gain better balance. “I just wish I was more helpful out here.”

“It’s not your fault.” Havoc sighed. “Besides, the Briggs men are more equipped to handle the snow. I’m just worried about Hawkeye being out here, or worse yet, believing that she was out here in worse weather last night.”

Furey gulped. “Right…”

A Briggs soldier collected the team at a designated spot, his voice just barely audible over the wailing of the wind. “The storm is picking up! It’s time to go back!”

“We can’t!” Mustang shouted. “We haven’t found her yet!”

“I’m sorry, General! But it won’t be safe out here, I’ll have my more experienced men look a little while longer, but you all need to return to Briggs immediately.”

Havoc knew General Mustang was furious, but he couldn’t very well light a fire in this weather, so he had no choice but to lead his men back in defeat. The second Lieutenant put a hand on Mustang’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Sir!”

Roy Mustang agreed and began the journey back towards the Briggs Fortress with his men in tow, thinking to himself and looking up at the sky’s oncoming rage. ‘Come on, Riza. Hang in there, wait for me. I’ll find you. Just hold on a little longer.


	17. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update for you guys! Chapter 17! Thanks for sticking with me so far, don't worry I have so much more planned for you to stay tuned for! As always, thank you for all the kudos and all the amazing comments! I hope you guys enjoy! ;)

Chapter 17: Ghosts

Abandoned Outpost, 5:00pm  
Her eyes fluttered open and with some effort, Riza managed to focus her sight on the small fire in front of her. It had been much bigger, she remembered. ‘I must have been passed out for a few hours.’

Riza took a deep breath, readjusting her uncomfortable position on the wood floor. If she was careful, the pain of her injuries remained mild. Slowly, she used her arms to lift herself into a sitting position in front of the fire again. Her hand reached down to her side, checking the place where the small dagger had entered her body and found it relatively dry for the time being. Next, she felt the gunshot on her thigh and was relieved to find that the bleeding had stopped there too, for now anyways. 

‘I’ll have to get my wounds looked at soon. The longer they sit untreated, the more chance I have of infection.”

As she stoked the remaining pieces of the fire, she felt her eyelids droop again. A sudden haziness was returning and she wanted nothing more than to lie down. The crackling of the fire and wild wind outside began to lull her back to sleep.

Riza snapped her head up at a voice. Not just any voice. Her heart swelled at the sound of his rich undertone, a comfort she had been longing for...Roy.

She looked around in confusion, still alone inside the outpost. ‘I could’ve sworn I had heard…?’

Sighing in disappointment, her head shook with disdain. There must not have been a voice, maybe her mind was making it up, she reasoned. Riza closed her eyes again, starting to slip back into sleep when the voice woke her again. 

Hawkeye looked around and saw no one, but the voice sounded so close, like he had been right next to her. She looked towards the door, hoping Roy might walk in and then he’d hold her like he’d done before. His voice whispered in her ear and she turned her attention to the dying flames in the fireplace. 

She examined the fire closely, watching each flame split and rejoin itself, sparks flying up and carried away into the stone chimney. Each flame had its own path over the wood, rising and falling until it began to take a shape. In the center, she recognized something, but it danced just out of her comprehension. A pair of dark eyes now stared back at her from the fire. Feeling herself go stiff as she waited, Riza watched his face morph, masked by orange and yellow hues. She stared at it, eyes wide for what seemed like minutes until finally, it spoke her name. Riza leaned closer, heat flooding her cheeks, and whispered hoarsely.

“M-Mustang..?” 

The voice was his, but his expression was stern and cold. “What do you think you’re doing, Lieutenant?” 

“Wh-What?” She stuttered. “H-How did you f-find me?”

“I didn’t.” The face amongst the flames said, it’s tone cut sharply and Hawkeye felt her chest tighten. “I wouldn’t come find you.” 

“Why?” Riza found it difficult to catch her breath, panic rising from her lungs and into the back of her throat. “I n-need your help! Please! I need you to f-find me!”

“No.” 

“W-Why?” 

“You disobeyed my orders, Lieutenant. You’re too weak.” The face began to contort back into red flames and Hawkeye choked on a sob.

“P-Please!” She scrambled onto her knees. “Mustang! Mustang please!” She thrust her arm towards the fire, reaching for the disappearing face only to engulf her hand in flames. Pulling it out quickly, Riza screamed and clutched her hand, already stinging from the burn. Her chest heaved with labored breath, focusing on her new pain and letting out a yell of frustration.

Once she regained a sense of calm, she examined her hand. The skin of her palm was red, but not enough to blister, she had pulled it away just in time. Her body jolted from the presence of something in front of her, blocking the light of the fire.

A man sat across from her, his blonde hair was dull and those blue eyes were barely visible behind sunken cheeks. The sight of him made her mouth dry and a cold sweat rushed over her, biting her lip in a grimace while examining his sickly image. Hawkeye was barely able to spit out, “Leave me alone.” Before looking to the side and away from him.

“Riza...” Berthold Hawkeye croaked out. “My daughter-“

“Stop it.” Riza glared. “Stop. Don’t talk to me like that...”

“My daughter...” Berthold, the old alchemy master raised a hand towards her. “Look at you...you’re dying...”

“I’m not dying.” She remarked coldly. “Leave me alone.”

His expression grew sad, pulling his drooping mouth into an even graver frown. “You’re dying, Riza...just like a soldier...” 

“Shut up.” Hawkeye huffed. “What would you know...”

“Riza...don’t forget that you’ve chosen this path…and now look at you, dying in a forgotten place...all alone...”

“Shut up!” She yelled, trembling. “I chose to keep living...which is m-more than I can say for you...you...piece of shit Father!”

Her outburst fell on silence. Berthold did not speak, he did not move. He just stared sadly at his daughter. 

“Stop looking at me like that! You d-don’t have the right!” Hawkeye hadn’t realized she had started crying until she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Don’t look at me with pity! I don’t need it from you!”

In a flash of anger she reached over and picked up the nearest objects to her, throwing them at her Father with a fury, gasping out sobs. He sat still and never wavered, continuously watching her. She picked up the canteen of water and hurled it at the fireplace, missing the flames by a few inches. As she had swung the jug, she felt a tear in her abdomen and a gush of blood seep out, sending her crumpling to the ground in agony.

After a few moments of panting on the floor, she mustered the courage to look up, to look her Father in the face only to find nothing. No one. She was alone again. Surges of pain raked across her body, her wounds having been agitated by the struggle. 

“Pull yourself together…” Riza scolded herself for losing control. Why was she seeing these things? They weren’t real...right? Looking around the room, she made sure she was alone again and that no one else would appear to torment her. Hawkeye readjusted her bandages as best she could and then returned her layers of clothing, trying to calculate her next move. ‘How am I going to keep warm out there?’ She wondered. ‘I certainly can’t stay here...I have to keep moving…’ Her eyes glanced over the now tossed about objects in the room, looking for something useful, finally settling on the low burning embers of the fire. The coals were still hot and she suddenly got an idea. 

Hawkeye grabbed the water jug and ripped off a few small pieces of the blanket, scooting herself closer to the fire. Wrapping her hands in the thick cloth, she grabbed coals and shoved them in the soles of her boots, gently placing them back on her feet without aggravating the bullet wound in her thigh. She then shoved the remaining coals inside the canteen of water, it’s metal material instantly heating up. Riza used the fireplace to stand, slowly and tactfully making her way to the door of the outpost.   
Opening the door, the blizzard was back and coming in at a fast pace, but she knew she had no other choice. She had to chance it. It was either make it to Briggs with what little warmth she had left, or stay in the outpost and die from hypothermia or from her untreated wounds. 

“Okay…” Riza Hawkeye took a deep breath and wrapped the blanket around her tightly, shrouding her face from the cold. The bottoms of her feet burned from the coals, and she could feel the warmth of the jug in her hands. “...there’s no going back now.”

She began to make her own path through the snowy landscape towards the looming mountains in the distance, and just beyond the trees lay the mouth of a canyon. If she could make it through, it would lead her right to Briggs. Riza Hawkeye headed on, despite the pain and cold, determined to reach her destination alive.

Fort Briggs, 9:30pm  
Mustang sat alone in a hallway, his head in his hands and feeling distraught at the idea that maybe they had turned their backs too early. They should have kept searching, he should be out there right now, blizzard or no. ‘I should have put my foot down…’ Roy thought to himself. 

He imagined she was out there in the cold, freezing to death or maybe she was hurt? The thought of it made him sick. He had almost lost her once, but at least he was there. At least he would have held her, comforted her. But this time, she was probably alone, he wasn’t there for her and it tore him up inside. 

A pair of boots appeared in front of him, accompanied by a sigh. Havoc moved to be next to him, slowly sliding down the wall to sit and he held out a cup of coffee to his superior. Mustang looked at the cup and took it gently, taking a small sip of the bitter beverage. 

“Thank you…” 

“No problem, Chief. It cost me, too...these Briggs soldiers don’t mess around when it comes to paying for things.” 

Roy just nodded but didn’t speak, watching the brown liquid in his cup with dull focus as Havoc lit up a cigarette. The two sat in silence for a while before Mustang broke first.

“I know it’s impulsive...but I feel as though I’m ready to burn down this entire mountainside and everything with it...maybe if I lit enough fire...just maybe...if I could melt all this snow…”

“Then that would cause some massive flooding, Sir. We wouldn’t want that either and besides, you can’t produce much fire when it’s so wet outside.”

Mustang looked back at his second Lieutenant, his face softened slightly. “That sounds like something Hawkeye would say.”  
Havoc looked back at Roy, a sad smile on his face. “I know…”

Falman appeared from around the corner, walking up to the pair sitting on the ground. “Furey and Breda have laid out a large map in General Armstrong’s office. We’re ready to start planning for our search strategies for the next lull in the storm.”

General Mustang nodded and took another sip of coffee, ready to take that cup of caffeine as far as it would take him. Havoc stood and Falman outstretched his hand to the General.

“Come on, General Mustang. Let’s go find the Lieutenant.”

Roy took Falman’s hand gratefully and hoisted himself into a standing position, the three making their way back to Armstrong’s office. Mustang had a feeling they would have to brew another pot of coffee.

Somewhere in the snow, 12:00am  
She trudged another step, knee deep in the white snow. Heat radiated from the coals from the tin that was haphazardly stuffed with coals, despite it being the only way to keep warm it did burn skin through her worn out gloves. The wind whipped, stinging the scrapes and cuts on her face, ones she didn’t even realize she had until now. The wind wailed so loudly in her ears, she thought she might go deaf. Riza pursed her lips and pulled the blanket more to cover her face, trying to hide herself from the blizzard and smearing the blood that now stained her nose and lips. Her temple was bleeding again and her other injuries were flaring from the friction of her torn uniform. 

‘What a mess this was.’ She thought. ‘Maybe this is where I will die...No.’ She couldn’t accept that. Riza Hawkeye would not die here. She had always accepted the reality, knowing she could die in a uniform. But this was not about being a soldier, this was about survival. Riza Hawkeye would not die like this. 

The next step sunk her foot farther down into the white snow, the shifting weight sent a sharp pain from the bulletwound in her thigh, blood seeping through her patchwork of a bandage. The spasm forced her legs to collapse, bringing her face first into snow with a grunt. Her body shook with shock and ache, then numbness. Riza’s body revolted against her, and refused to move further.

‘This is it...I am going to die.’ Tears brimmed at her eyes as she looked ahead and saw nothing but a wasteland. ‘I didn’t even get to see him one last time…’. Hawkeye’s heart ached. ‘I’ll never see him again...they may never find me...I’m going to die...’ Her eyesight grew blurry and a force so strong kept her pinned to the snow. ‘Maybe...this is for the best...maybe I’m supposed to die...I’m going to die...’

“Get up.” A man’s voice woke her, it was a familiar voice but when she looked up the figure was too shadowy to recognize. He spoke again. “Let’s get you up, Mustang must be waiting for you.” 

He extended a hand to Hawkeye. She took it and felt a sense of comfort, it felt safe. She managed to choke out, “Wh-Who? Who are you-“

Now that she was close and standing with him, she finally realized who this man was. He smiled at her, that same old one he always gave and he propped an arm around her shoulder to give her support.

“M-Maes Hughes...?”


	18. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god thank you all so so so much for all your lovely comments on this fic! I'm so excited for you guys to read what I have planned! I hope you enjoy this chapter and lemme know what you think! Thank you guys for reading, commenting and all the kudos! <3

Chapter 18: Sunrise

Now that she was close and standing with him, she finally realized who this man was. He smiled at her, that same old one he always gave and he propped an arm around her shoulder to give her support.

“M-Maes Hughes...?”

“Come on. You have to keep going, Lieutenant. He must be waiting for you.”

“Wh-wha...H-Hughes? I don’t-”

“No time for talking, Lieutenant. You’ve still got a long way to go.” Hughes guided her forward through the terrain, somehow knowing exactly where to go. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Riza nodded and followed his lead, trusting him and accepting this small sense of comfort. “I h-have to get back…”

Maes chuckled. “I know you do. I’m sure he can’t wait for you to return, poor guy must be worried sick.” 

“R-Really?”

“Of course. If you’re not there to protect him, well, who will?” 

Riza watched him as they trampled through the snowbanks, despite the howling wind in her ear she was able to hear his voice perfectly. He was not wearing a jacket, just his blue military uniform, though it seemed as if the blizzard did not bother him at all.

“Besides...” Hughes looked down and smiled warmly at her. “You know how Mustang gets when you’re not around, he misses you so much he can’t get any work done...and we can’t have that now can we?”

Riza desperately wanted to smile back at him, but she was in so much pain and confusion. Even the mention of paperwork and the office and everything felt so far away. She had been so focused on survival that those mundane things had completely erased themselves from her mind. 

Her eyes were intent on watching him. Was he just a figment of her imagination like her Father and Mustang before? But his grip on her shoulder and hand felt so warm, so real. And yet there was still something so off about his presence. Hawkeye huffed and decided not to dwell on it just yet, afterall, she was still bleeding and still stuck out in the storm. And whether he was real or not, she trusted Hughes almost as much as she trusted Roy.   
She hadn’t realized how far they had walked until large walls of ice loomed over her on both sides and the wind passed through, now streamlined to push her backwards. Hughes kept her on her feet and they continued to trudge through the canyon. 

“This way, Lieutenant.” He directed her closer to the walls and helped her climb over chunks of snow and ice, which was increasing with difficulty for her. Every overexertion tore at the stab in her side and every step in the white mush sent sharp, searing pains from her leg up to the rest of her body. 

Hawkeye leaned against the wall, clutching it for support. Her lungs pleaded with her for air and her body trembled from cold and exhaustion. “I-I can’t...I need to...rest…”

Hughes let her lean on the walls, shielding her from the wind for the time being. His green eyes glistened with sympathy. “I know you need rest...and we’re almost there. You’re almost there.”

She looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “W-why are you here?”

“Because you need help. Because he needs you.” 

“B-But...how are you...are you…?”

“Real?” He answered. “I’m real enough, but don’t worry about that now.” His expression grew more concerned as he looked down at her wounds. “You’re losing blood, we have to keep going.”

Riza has been so ready to give up just moments ago, but Hughes was right. Whatever he was, spirit or a delusion, he was here to help and she would not die here, not like this. Riza Hawkeye would not die. 

Fort Briggs, 2:00am  
The storm outside the fortress of Briggs raged on, Mustang’s angry temperament growing with it. He managed to keep it contained, but it was harder every passing hour. Every hour that passed was another hour she could be out there. 

General Mustang sat at the table once again, overlooking the map while Falman was briefing the team on the red circles marked on the map. 

“These are the routes we’ve checked already, we followed the one that was given to us by Dawes.” 

Breda added. “We didn’t get to finish looking in that direction, she still might be that way.”

“We should search more around Fort Windsor. Don’t you think Hawkeye might have tried to go to the outpost?” Havoc chimed in. 

“We had Briggs men search the entire fort, including the outpost on the cliffside above. If she was there then we would have seen her.” General Armstrong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. 

“What if she got lost on the way? Could she be in the wilderness between?” Furey wondered.

“From what I understood is that it’s a pretty direct shot from the Fort to the outpost. I suppose it’s possible but unlikely since there is less foliage to get lost in, in that area.” Falman pointed out. “Also Dawes had mentioned routine treks up to the cliffside, Hawkeye would most likely have known the way.”

“That’s true.” Furey sighed. “I’m just trying to think of different possibilities. You’d think if she was able to travel then she would have made it to the Northern Command Center by now, assuming that she went the route that Dawes mentioned.”

“There hasn’t been any updates from the infirmary ward at the Command Center, yeah?” Havoc asked. 

Furey shook his head. “No, but my old buddy stationed there said he’d keep an eye out.”

The men continued to talk while Mustang scratched his chin, eyes narrowing on an x that had been drawn to the west of Fort Windsor. He pointed to it. 

“General Armstrong, what is this marked on the map?”

She leaned forward to peer at the map again. “That would be the abandoned outpost. It was used as a makeshift one while the new fort was under construction. They stopped using it once they built the one on the cliffside above the fort.”

“What are you thinking about, Sir?” Breda watched Roy stare intently at the map, specifically where he was pointing. 

“Is it possible that Hawkeye knew about this building?”

General Armstrong shrugged. “I suppose. Are you suggesting she may have gone that way?”

Roy shrugged. “Just a thought, but if she knew about it...do you think she would have tried to make it there?” His heart ached at his own word usage, ‘tried’.”

“That would also suggest that Hawkeye didn’t go towards the Northern Command Center like Dawes had said.” Falman scratched his head.

“It would mean that she tried to go to Briggs instead.” Havoc’s eyes widened. “You may be on to something, Sir.”

“I seriously doubt that Hawkeye would be that foolish considering her high level of intelligence.” General Armstrong scoffed. “She would have had to travel hours of walking distance in a blizzard to even reach the abandoned outpost, let alone having to pass through the canyon to get here all the while a second blizzard rages outside. She would then be met with my men at the entrance to the fort, who are impervious to trespassers. I can’t imagine the Lieutenant doing something so stupid and reckless.”

A wave of heated anger rushed over Mustang, his fist coming down on the table, their coffee cups trembling from the force. His men stiffened while Armstrong remained unperturbed.

“But don’t you think she might have tried?” 

The air in the room was thick, silent as the two Generals stared each other down.

General Armstrong tapped her sword on the ground, choosing her words carefully. “I can’t imagine she would have, it’s a dangerous way to go especially when heightened by a blizzard.” 

“We’ve tried everywhere else? There isn’t even a sign of her on the routes from Windsor to the Northern Command Center.” Falman said. “But Hawkeye is smart, she wouldn’t go down such a risky path without being fully prepared.”

“Unless she was prepared.” Furey blinked, the team turned to stare at him. “Well, let’s say that outpost was still standing and she made it there, if it had the right supplies and tools, she might have been willing to risk it.”

“Again...” Havoc said. “...this is hypothetical, we have no idea if she went to the outpost. And if she did decide to go through the pass...do you really think she could have done it in a blizzard?”

General Armstrong nodded her head. “I side with Lieutenant Havoc on this one. I only send my most elite team into that pass, and when I do it’s rare. It is easy to get lost on a sunny day let alone a storm. As smart or as skilled as Lieutenant Hawkeye is, there is no way she could navigate the pass without help.”

The room once again fell silent, no one knew what to say next.

“Could we still search there?” Mustang asked, his voice was quieter now, sounding lost.

“I will recruit a team to leave as soon as the blizzard lets up.” Armstrong stared at Mustang with narrowed eyes. “So long as you hold yourself together.” 

Somewhere in the snow, approximately 6:00am  
After what could have been hours or even days, Hawkeye still stomped through the ice with a strong will. Her wounds ached and stung, but with the support from Hughes she had regained a burst of fighting spirit. The storm had slowed to a sprinkle of flakes, the wind a quiet whisper.

Suddenly the sun began to poke through the clouds, streaming sunbeams onto her. It was morning again. Riza looked up to the sky and realized they were no longer in the canyon. She wondered how long it had taken her, how many mornings had passed between her escape and now? Everything seemed so hazy.

‘How long will I travel like this? Am I even still alive?’ The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but maybe she had passed and she was wandering around in the afterlife? ‘No, the pain is still real.’ 

She looked behind her, the small rays of sunshine sparkled on the snow banks she had just crossed, like millions of diamonds. If it hadn’t been for the crisis at hand, Hawkeye could have considered it to be beautiful. When her head turned to face forward again, she was met with a wall. Only an open patch of snow stood between her and the stark building.

The large, towering wall built into a mountainside stood proudly like that of a castle. The Northern Wall Of Briggs. She was here, she had done it. Her eyes widened and relief washed over her. 

A yell in the distance woke her from her thoughts. A figure by the doors was calling out to her, he was holding something but her vision was too blurry to see what it was. Riza sighed and cracked a small smile, turning to look at Hughes.

“We did it, Hugh-” With her back turned to the fort, she realized that there was no one beside her. He was gone with no words, no nothing. Her eyes scanned the landscape behind her and saw only one set of tracks in the snow, one set of her own uncoordinated steps. “Hughes...?”

The yell from the figure got closer but she did not turn to look, her eyes stung though Riza did not feel the tear sliding down her frozen face. “Thank you…” She whispered to someone who was no longer there, and perhaps, never had been.

The yell was louder now, only a few steps away. Her body pivoted to face the figure from the entrance, she recognized him as a Briggs soldier with a gun pointed towards her. His mouth was moving but she only heard a muffled noise. The sight of Briggs, the sight of a briggs soldier, the sight of freedom, everything hit her in that moment. Every incident from the past two months, all the torture, death, anguish and pain flooded her senses and she trembled.   
Riza Hawkeye struggled to keep afloat with a wave of dizziness overcoming her and she held out her arms to the briggs soldier, croaking out “help me” before collapsing to the ground and everything went black.

Fort Briggs, a few moments before  
A soldier stood at the entrance to the fort looking out towards the sea of snow, exhausted from the recent events. His partner stood on the other side of the entrance to the Fort, while Major Miles and a small crew stood nearby, discussing instructions for the search party ready to be sent out again. 

As he stood at the large metal doors, he continued to assess the landscape before losing himself in thoughts. A small movement returned his focus to the horizon of snow in the distance, perhaps it was an arctic fox? No, it was bigger than a fox, a deer maybe? Creatures were more abundant in these early hours. 

Whatever it was, it walked in a strange manner, too unpredictable in its steps. The soldier stepped forward, hand on his gun and watched the form intently. As it came into focus, it became more of an upright figure, almost as if huddled under something. He took a few cautious steps closer, alerting his partner. This figure grew closer and he could now see that it was a person of sorts, but a face was not visible underneath a cloaked material. 

“Stop right there!” The soldier called. “Hands up! Halt! State your name and business!”

The figure turned away from the soldiers to look back at the horizon and mumbled something inaudible. It’s distraction allowed the soldier to gain an advantage, a safe but clear distance with his rifle raised. 

“Who are you? I won’t ask again!” The soldier called out to it. “I said, hands up!”

The figure slowly turned to him, trembling and looking up, letting the cloak slip to reveal its true identity. Dull eyes peeked from behind wisps of blonde locks that were tangled and stained with blood. A breath of air escaped a pair of cracked lips, raising her arms to him she only managed a hoarse whisper of “...help me…” as her legs gave way straight into the snow, her body collapsing in front of him.


	19. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh thank you all so much for all of your kind words and for continuing this journey with me! We still have a ways to go but hopefully this chapter gives you a little something ;) Thank you guys for all of the support, you're awesome! Lemme know whatcha think! Chapter 19! Woo!

Chapter 19: Reunion

The soldier clamored up the steel steps, skipping every other one on his way up and breaking into a sprint once he reached the fifth floor hallway of the Briggs Fortress. He pounded his fist on the door repeatedly until it swung open, revealing a tall lieutenant with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“Can we help you?” Havoc said with a snarky expression when the soldier pushed past him and headed straight for General Armstrong. 

The soldier saluted quickly, still panting from his desperate journey. “P-Permission... to speak, Sir!” 

“Go on.” Armstrong raised a hand, staring at him with narrowed eyes, ready for whatever news was coming. She knew it was going to be something big. 

The soldier dropped his salute. “Well...” He looked around at the men in the room having felt their eyes boring into him. “You aren’t going to believe this but...” He paused to catch his breath as they waited anxiously for news, any news. The soldier looked at Mustang first before turning back to General Armstrong. “...we found her.”

Mustang leapt out of his chair, sending it flying backwards. His eyes were wide and focused on the soldier, the words uttered from his lips barely above a whisper. “I-Is she...?”

The soldier looked back to Mustang and nodded. “...alive...”

A surge of energy flowed through Roy and he almost smiled. “She’s alive!”

The men who had been still with shock were each forming their own relief, smiling or catching their held breath. 

The soldier did not smile, his expression stayed calloused with worry. “But...”

Mustang’s stomach dropped, his solace fading instantly and his tone grew stern. “But...?”

The soldier gulped, frightened by the General’s face and his tone. “You will want to come down to the infirmary right away. Major Miles sent for you all. I can take you there.”

General Armstrong nodded. “Let’s go.”

Mustang had already reached the door before anyone had even risen from their seats. His men and General Armstrong followed with a brisk pace down to the first floor where the infirmary was stationed. 

The soldier led them through the double doors into a single room with chairs, a sort of makeshift waiting room. Major Miles, standing in front of the door which led to the infirmary, turned to Roy and the others as they entered. 

“Good. You’re here.” Miles dismissed the two soldiers he had been briefing and saluted the two Generals. 

“So she’s here? You’re sure it’s her?” Roy said. His voice was clear, but Miles could sense his desperation bubbling over his normally calm demeanor. 

“It is. I identified her myself.” Miles watched the faces of Mustang’s men struggle between relief and sudden worry about Lieutenant Hawkeye’s well being.

“The soldier said she’s alive, I need to see her-“ Roy moved forward to pass through the door but was stopped by an outstretched arm. Miles looked at him, his expression had remained as serious and stoic as always. 

“She is, however, I was told not to disturb them until our medics alert us that she is in a stable condition.” 

“She must have been out in the snow, right?” Havoc said as he put a hand on the General’s shoulder to calm him and pull him back to a grounded state. “Hawkeye probably needed to be warmed up, yeah?”

Miles furrowed his brows and looked to General Armstrong. “She’ll need to stay here for a while.” He looked back to Mustang and Havoc. “The cold was only one factor. I believe Lieutenant Hawkeye has sustained some serious injuries as well.”

“How serious? What could you tell? Where was she found? How did you find her?” Roy got closer to Miles and rambled questions before Furey took a step forward, hands raised gently.

“General, hold on we have to stay calm.” 

“Go on, Major.” General Armstrong nodded. “What injuries could you tell?”

“I wasn’t able to properly assess them, but when we found her she had collapsed. I didn’t waste any time getting her here to the infirmary.”

“Where was she found?” Mustang asked again.

“We led a few searches but couldn’t find anything or even traces of her? Did we miss something?” Falman said.

Major Miles shook his head. “It sounds strange but we didn’t find her...she was the one who found us.”

“What do you mean?” Furey inquired. The men looked taken aback.

“She actually managed to walk right up to Briggs from the horizon line in the west...just below the mountain range. Lieutenant Hawkeye must have traveled through the canyon pass to get here.”

Roy’s eyes widened and he whipped around to look at General Armstrong who, for maybe the first time in her life he guessed, looked shell shocked. 

“I’ve never known you to be the joking type, Major.” She cut coldly, shifting her aura from surprised to irritated. 

“I’m not.” Miles stared back, watching Armstrong bite her lip in aggravation and prepared herself to retort to whatever General Mustang’s witty comment would be. The witty comment never came as Mustang shook his head in disbelief. A new sorrow washing over his features at the thought of her barely surviving the impossible...again.

Armstrong’s blue eyes softened, but she scoffed to cover up any trace of her empathy for Mustang. “Imposible.”

Breda scratched his head. “She just walked right up to the wall?” 

“Yes.” Miles continued. “The Lieutenant approached and was met by one of our soldiers. She was wrapped in a blanket of some sort, beaten and bloody. The soldier didn’t recognize her and commanded her to speak her name and intentions. She only said one thing to him.”

“And that was?” Havoc interjected.

“She raised her arms to the soldier and said ‘help me’ before collapsing to the ground. That’s when I was called over and identified this mysterious person as the Lieutenant.”

Mustang took a deep breath as they had fallen into another bout of silence. He calmed himself before looking at the door, his only obstacle now between him and Riza. “I need to see her.”

“Not yet.” Miles warned, uncertain of Mustang’s future reaction.

“Please…”

Havoc felt a small lump form in his throat as the sound of his Superior’s tone, the pleading was so sad and so unlike him. General Mustang had always been so confident, so firm even when he was swallowing his pride or secretly a nervous wreck, but never had he heard him sound so small and meek. Havoc had never heard Mustang beg.

Miles didn’t know what to say, he was given an order by the medic to have them wait. The Lieutenant was in a critical condition, and the medics needed proper space and focus.

It was surprising that General Armstrong was the first to defend Mustang this time. “Is there nothing to be done? Could he not go in just to see that it really is her?”

The Ishvalan soldier sighed, his eyes asking for mercy from Armstrong. “I was told not to let anyone pass until it was clear. She is in a critical condition.” He turned to Mustang. “I’m sorry, but I fear that you may just be in their way.”

Roy sighed and sat down in a chair, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes, knowing he still couldn’t do anything. “I’ll wait.” God, how he hated playing this waiting game.

“We will wait with you, Sir.” Furey took a seat near him and the rest of his team followed suit. 

General Armstrong began to converse with Major Miles on a different topic entirely. “Has Dawes been taken care of?”

“We boarded him on a train. He and his escorts should be departing from North City within the hour.”

“Good. Be sure to send word to his escorts that Hawkeye has been found, I’m sure Dawes would like to know.” She said before taking a seat on the opposite side of the room, Miles sat near her.

Briggs Fortress, 7:30am  
Mustang watched the clock in the waiting room tick by, counting ten minutes. Twenty-five minutes. Forty minutes. An hour. An hour and a half with nothing, no word or news from beyond that door. He had abandoned the coffee that Falman had fetched for them a while back, despite having been up all night, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. He turned to look at his team, seeing no one else on the verge of sleep yet though they all looked tired enough. Roy sighed and tried to think positively, that when that door opened the medic would let him through and he would finally see her face. Riza would be there and she would be okay, a little banged up but otherwise okay. It wouldn’t be like last time. He couldn’t bear anymore guilt. 

The doorknob clicked and it creaked open, Mustang rose immediately at the noise before he even laid eyes on the medic. A soldier in a set of scrubs walked out, his apron and gloves stained with blood.

“Is she okay?” Mustang couldn’t stop himself before the medic even had a chance to speak, but the soldier’s expression was unreadable at first and he got flustered.

The medic put his hands up in a calming motion. “Okay. We have gotten her to a more stable condition, but we will still need to keep a close eye on her for any sudden changes, especially for any possible infection.”

“Can you give us a status of injury?” Havoc asked, now standing next to the General. 

“Well, she is either the most enduring soldier I’ve ever met or the luckiest one. Probably both.” The medic shook his head before continuing. “In the early stages of hypothermia alone, she had been previously wounded in other areas, some recent and some older. The newer ones in more dire states, a gash on her forehead just below the hairline, a stab wound in her side that had been torn wider most likely from the friction of her movement, and a gunshot in the lower right thigh. She has some mild burns on the palms of her hands and bottoms on her feet.”

“What about the older ones?” Falman inquired.

“Some are strange to say the least, uncertain of the exact causes. There are multiple bruises and scrapes, some more healed than others as well as odd circle burns in various different areas. I can also tell that over time she has been dehydrated and malnourished.”

Mustang gulped down a wave of sadness and then controlled a rising sense of anger, someone had done this to her and he clenched his fists to avoid the urge to snap his fingers. “I’d like to see her, now.” He decided he was no longer asking, it was time to command. 

The medic sighed. “Yes, but I must warn you, it’s not exactly a welcoming sight…”

“I don’t care about that.” Mustang’s voice cut across the room, offended, like it mattered to him what condition she was in. He was going to see Riza and now, with her in the next room over, nothing more was going to stand in his way. 

“Of course, I just mean...if you could please be quiet and try not to disturb her. She hasn’t woken up yet and my team is still cleaning her up.” 

The medic turned and gestured for them to follow him, walking down a short hallway, Roy’s heart thumped in his chest with anticipation. This moment he had been waiting for was finally here. As they approached the doorway, the medic allowed them to step into the room, hushing them on their way in. 

Mustang quickly locked eyes on the bed where Riza lay, a nurse standing by her and readying a wet cloth. His stomach churned and sickened, his knees grew weak and ready to buckle. 

Her fair skin had turned a grayish pale, the top of her uniform cut open and her chest and torso had been bandaged up. One of her pant legs had been cut open to access the gunshot, that too had been wrapped, as well as her hands and feet. The gash on her forehead was taped over with gauze, blood was still staining her skin. Roy felt his mouth dry up at the sight of the bags under her eyes and the labored rise and fall of her chest. She was struggling for air and holding onto life by sheer will alone. 

Roy slowly approached the bed, stopping at a safe distance to not be in the way of the nurse who was using the wet cloth to wipe the blood from Riza’s face. Her hair was tangled and matted with blood, he felt his eyes sting with oncoming emotion. 

Gripping the end of the bed frame, he felt overwhelming nausea and he trembled. A hand rested on his shoulder, then another on his back, then another and another, until he realized his men were offering their support. The team stood together in solidarity, watching over their found Lieutenant.


	20. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA! Chapter 20??? I can't believe it! Thank you all so so so much for your support, from the kudos to the lovely comments, you guys are amazing! I wrote this chapter to be a bit longer for you and this chapter has definitely been highly anticipated! I hope you guys enjoy, lemme know whatcha think! Thank you!!!

Chapter 20: Awake

Fort Briggs, 9:00am  
Mustang took in another deep sigh, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair that had been placed at Hawkeye’s bedside. His fatigue was returning now that he sat by her, watching her breathe and fight for life once more. It had been so hard for her, he knew that fact well, and couldn’t help but feel that heavy guilt pressing on his chest. ‘If only I had been there sooner…’

The nurses had come in every few minutes to check on Riza, making sure her heart rate and breathing stayed at a stable level, occasionally checking her temperature or adjusting the IV bags they had her hooked up to. He tried not to bother them or be in their way, it seemed as though the few nurses stationed in this cold fortress were just as resilient and stern as the men. They continuously checked Hawkeye, but little did they know how fruitless it was to check so often. Roy watched the rise and fall of her chest with painstaking attention, he watched her face for any signs that she may have slipped into danger again. That beautiful face of hers. It was no longer the rounded, soft and doe eyed face that had him flustered while trying to study alchemy, but rather it had been molded by trauma and triumph all the same. Still, Riza continued to make his heart skip a beat or flutter when he knew her eyes were focused on his back, or when she narrowed them slightly every time she pulled the trigger of her gun. 

Mustang felt the corners of his lips tug upwards, ever so slightly. Even after all this time, he still found that subtle, rose color on her cheeks, or her golden hair catching light like a ray of sun. Behind all of the dark moments of this cold world, her smile still gave him strength and warmth. 

He felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder, stirring him awake. His eyes shot open and he turned upwards to Havoc who had entered the room and roused him. Roy hadn’t realized he had dozed off and snapped his gaze back to Hawkeye, still laying in front of him, still unconscious but still alive. He rubbed his face with his hand to try and get a hold of himself. 

“You alright, Chief?” 

“Yeah, thank you…” 

Havoc motioned casually to the door. “Furey, Breda and Falman have set up camp in the waiting room if you want to join them and get some sleep.”

“Why didn’t they go back to the barracks?”

The blonde Lieutenant chuckled. “They didn’t want to be too far away in case she woke up.”

Mustang shook his head, smiling to himself. “I’m not sure I’m ready to rest quite yet.”

“Well, the position I just found you in would suggest otherwise…” Havoc offered but when Mustang did not speak, he simply sighed and pulled up another chair.

“You should get some rest, Havoc.”

“Look who’s talking. Besides…” He smirked at his Superior. “...sleep is overrated anyway.”

They fell into a comfortable silence until Havoc grinned a little too widely, looking at the doorway to make sure their conversation would be unheard. 

“So...I’m sure you couldn’t have missed how surprised General Armstrong looked when she realized that Hawkeye had done the impossible...even though she swore it couldn’t be done.”

Roy tried to hold back a chuckle. “At the time, I had other things to worry about. Though I can’t say I won’t be mentioning it until the day she dies.”

The two men shared a laugh, unbeknownst to them a pair of boots had just clicked their way into the room. General Armstrong stood in the doorway, glaring at the two of them, having heard every word. 

“You do realize that one can hear you from outside the door, don’t you?” She asked rhetorically in a seething tone. “I’ll be sure Hawkeye gets the best of care, but don’t think that you won’t have any consequences, Mustang. I’ll wipe that smug look off your face and I’ll make it look like an accident.” General Armstrong turned on her heel and disappeared from view, Miles mouthed a nonchalant apology before following her down the hall.

“You know she’s gonna kill you one day, right?” Havoc looked over at Mustang, snickering.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled, not turning to face his second Lieutenant, instead letting his eyes settle on the woman lying in the bed. Roy was dying for her eyes to be upon him once again.

Fort Briggs, Three days Later, 6:00am  
Havoc rubbed his eyes and yawned, sitting up from his makeshift bed on the waiting room floor. Falman knelt next to him, hushedly shaking his shoulder. 

“Havoc, it’s your watch now.” He whispered.

“That time already?” Havoc said with a voice full of sleep.

“Do you need another few minutes?”

Havoc messed a hand through his hair and yawned again. “No...I’ll take it. Where’s the Chief?”

Falman pointed to the corner where Mustang lay with his back turned to the room. “We finally got him to go shower again and rest. I think he finally fell asleep.”

“Good.” Havoc picked up his pack of cigarettes and shoved them in his pocket, sliding on his jacket and standing up. “He can’t keep living on coffee and two hours of sleep.”

They walked down the hall to the room where Riza slept, Furey stood at attention by the doorway. He saluted his friends before rubbing the back of his head and yawning.

“Morning, Havoc.” Furey said. “No updates yet, it’s been officially three days.”

“Go ahead and take your rest, guys. I’ll keep watch.” Havoc patted Furey on the back and nodded to Falman.

Falman saluted before walking away with a sleepy Furey in tow. Havoc sighed and walked into the room, the nurse smiled at him.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” 

He nodded to her. “Mornin’. How’s she doin’?”

“Well, still asleep but she certainly has improved, her wounds are healing nicely. I just changed her bandages and we’ve kept her on the IV all night again.”

“Good.” Havoc said. He pulled up the chair to Hawkeye’s bedside, sitting down and observing her condition for himself. She was still pale and covered in bandages, but at the very least she was no longer on the brink of death. He fell into a habit of tapping his fingers on the nearest surface, which happened to be the bedside table, in this case. 

The nurse watched him for a moment, concentrating on the incessant tapping. “Are you a smoker, Lieutenant?” She asked.

“Yeah...” Havoc rubbed his head sheepishly. “...I know it’s not a good idea to smoke in an infirmary ward sooo....I’ve had to hold off.”

“I understand.” The nurse nodded and looked back at her file. “You know, there is a fire escape right off this room, it has a small space where you’d be able to sneak one.”

Havoc looked at her inquisitively, she continued.

“Don’t worry, it's right next to the room and you can hear everything from outside, if she were to wake up.” She paused and looked at Hawkeye, then back to Havoc. “Not that I think she would wake up right now, I mean, she’s been out for almost three days. What could ten minutes hurt?”

“You are the most persuasive nurse I’ve ever met.” He smiled, pulling out his pack. “I shouldn’t leave Lieutenant Hawkeye alone though.”

“Not to worry, I’m here refilling IV bags anyways. I’ll be here until you come back.”

Havoc nodded to her, whispering a desperate thank you before slipping out into the hall and through a door towards the fire escape. 

‘Finally.’ The Nurse thought to herself. ‘That tapping was getting on my nerves.”

Making his way onto the small fire escape, he came upon a set of metal fire stairs, unused. ‘Ironic to have fire stairs in a place as cold as this.’ Havoc thought. He left the door open just a crack so he could hear any noise from the hallway.

Havoc lit up his cigarette, inhaling the relief it brought him. These past few months had been nothing but anxiety. Worrying about Lieutenant Hawkeye, worrying about the General, and trying to piece everything together had left him with an eternal migraine. 

He shivered and clutched his jacket tighter, the morning air was brisk and the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon of snow. It was eerily calm, like the eye of a hurricane or rather the moment right before a storm. ‘Hawkeye may be safe now, but who knows what’s going to happen once she wakes up...’ 

There had been so much concern on finding Hawkeye alive, and now the pressure to keep her alive was consuming. No one had given much thought to the after-effects of what is assumed that Hawkeye went through and how they will have to bring it all to a head. Of course Mustang is going to need to bring in whoever is responsible, and send them to prison if not subject them to his raging flames.

Havoc took another drag from his cigarette and sighed, staring off into the frozen abyss. ‘Hawkeye better wake up soon, the anticipation is killing me-’

A crash and the sound of clutter hitting the floor echoed from down the hallway. Shouts followed immediately after and Havoc’s stomach dropped. He threw his lit cigarette down into a pile of snow collected on the stairs as he slid into the hallway and around the corner, throwing open the door to the room. 

The nurse had her hands up, while the Doctor from earlier was holding a metal tray as a shield. Both of them talking in careful, low voices towards the corner of the room.

In the corner, Hawkeye sat with her frail arms holding a pair of scissors aimed at either of the two. Her chest was heaving from the exertion and her eyes were wide with fear. Drops of blood oozed from where she had ripped the IV out of her arm. Havoc paled at the sight.

“Please, we are only here to help...” The Doctor said calmly. “You don’t have to worry-“

“Who are you?” Riza said hoarsely, scanning the two for any signs of danger. “Wh-Where am I?” 

“We are helping you. We know you and you’re safe here. My name-“ The nurse attempted.

“Stop it! Don’t come any closer!” Hawkeye’s voice cracked, having been unused for days. “I-I....I don’t...”

Riza hadn’t noticed that Havoc had entered the room yet and he took a step forward until she gazed up at him. Hawkeye panicked and leaned back farther against the wall. 

“D-Don’t come any closer! I won’t let y-you!”

“Lieutenant Hawkeye.” Havoc said firmly, his heart ached that she didn’t recognize him immediately. What had she been through to make her this scared?

At the sound of her name she looked back at the third man, her eyes searching him for any possible threat. He slowly knelt down to be eye level with her, his mouth moved but his words sounded like they were under water. She shook her head, trying to focus her blurry vision and tried to understand what the man was saying.

“Lieutenant? Do you see me?” He inched ever closer, all of his movements slow and steady. “It’s me. It’s Havoc. Do you see me?”

Her mind raced as she observed his face, finally, it settled on a familiarity. “H-Havoc?” She croaked.

“Yeah, hey now...you remember me? Dontcha?” Havoc slowly reached a hand towards her. “Everything is all right now. You’re safe. You’re at Briggs. No one is gonna hurt you, okay?”

Hawkeye watched his every move, still wary. “Am I asleep?” She whispered.

“No...not anymore. This is real. I’m real. It’s really me...see?” He patted his chest gently, before reaching out his hand again. “May I have the scissors, please?”

She bit her lip, steadily gaining trust in him but she continued to clutch the scissors tightly. “Havoc...? I-It’s really you...?”

“Yes.” Havoc said calmly, still inching towards her. “I promise it’s me. I promise you’re okay. I promise you’re safe.”

He continued to hold eye contact until she finally dropped the scissors from her shaking fingers and they clattered to the floor. Riza inhaled multiple times before breaking into a sob, and holding her head. Havoc crawled over and slid the scissors towards the nurse, he placed a hand on her shoulder only to have her tense and cower in closer to herself.

“Hawkeye...” Havoc said softly. “It’s okay.” 

She didn’t move towards him, simply hiding her face in her hands and trembling. 

“Okay...” He said, having no idea what to do. He let her sit for a moment before he gently offered a hand again. “Hawkeye? May I help you stand?”

After a few moments of catching her breath, Riza nodded. She looked at his outstretched hand cautiously but finally took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. Immediately the room began to spin, her knees buckled and she braced herself, ready to hit the floor, but the impact never came. Havoc’s arms caught her and he lifted her back onto the bed, careful not to aggravate her injuries. She froze and looked up at him. His grasp on her was firm but still so gentle, a small sense of comfort rushed over her.

Once she was sitting on the bed, she looked down at her arms, blood had dripped and stained the pajamas she wore. Her mouth was suddenly so dry and she couldn’t think of what to say, her mind was clouded with confusion and drowsiness. Havoc kneeled on the floor in front of her, carefully placing his hands on her shoulders. She flinched initially from the shock of his touch, though she was unsure why she felt that way? 

Havoc removed his hands as soon as he felt her jump, his eyes caught hers and he could see the sudden fear in her eyes. Then it faded again as it had before. 

He understood that she was scared and uncertain, delirious perhaps, but there was something else about Hawkeye that was different. She looked at him, waiting for something to be said or done. 

Havoc spoke quietly, so as not to startle her further, resting his hands on the bed respectively. “Would you like to see him?”

Even in this state, Hawkeye recognized exactly who he meant, and a rush of emotions flooded through her all at once. She feared what Mustang might say or might do, how did he feel? Riza shuddered. 

“Is...Is he angry with me?” She whispered, looking down at the floor.

Havoc was taken aback, shocked. “W-What? Why would he be angry with you?”

“I just...” She sighed, trying to breathe through another wave. “I-I don’t know...I don’t know…” Riza was confused, there were so many things she couldn’t seem to remember at this time.

“Lieutenant.” Havoc hovered his hand over her shoulder, as if asking for permission. She looked down and nodded, allowing him to place it reassuringly. “He isn’t angry with you. He isn’t. The General has been so worried about you, once we realized you were missing...he spent every waking moment searching for you.”

“R-really?” 

“Of course...” Havoc gave her a small smile. “What would he do without you, honestly? He has been desperate for you to wake up. The only reason he wasn’t at your bedside when you woke up was because we had finally dragged him away for a shower and some real sleep.” 

Riza nodded and felt a warmth return to her at the thought. 

“I’ll go get him-“

“Should...should I let him sleep?” She wondered.

Havoc shook his head and stood, giving her shoulder one last reassuring pat. “No, he’d want to see you now. I’ll be right back.” And with that he briskly walked out the door.

The Lieutenant walked out of the room but broke into a sprint as soon as he reached the hallway, nearly skidding into the waiting room. Furey and Falman woke immediately at the sound of footsteps. Breda followed soon after, the three of them whispering, “What’s going on?”, as Havoc passed them to get to Mustang, still sleeping in the corner. 

“Chief...Chief...?” Havoc shook his Superior. “Wake up.”

Mustang woke with a start, muttering deliriously. “Wh-What’s wrong?” I-Is Hawkeye-?”

“She’s awake.” 

Mustang flew out of his makeshift bed and stumbled to his feet, nearly knocking Havoc over in the process. 

“Wait! Mustang!” Havoc called, halting everyone in their race to stand up, and stopping the General who had almost made it to the hallway. “Hold on.”

“Why?” Mustang asked frantically.

“Well...”

“Can we see her too?” Furey inquired, Breda and Falman standing behind him with wide eyes.

“Umm....” Havoc motioned for them to gather in a group before putting one hand in his pocket and the other in his hair, nervously. “I think...the General should go in first, then we can go in as a group later...ya know, not to overwhelm her?”

“Is she okay?” Mustang asked quickly. 

“She is...kind of...” Havoc sighed and looked around, watching the men’s faces grow fearful and worrisome. The Second Lieutenant quickly briefed them on the situation from moments ago.

Mustang furrowed his brow. “She didn’t recognize you?”

“Not at first.” Havoc shook his head. “She was scared, and kept thinking the doctors were going to attack her, it took her a little bit but she finally calmed down.”

Mustang nodded in understanding before turning and marching towards Hawkeye’s room. The men gave their General a head start before making their own way towards the room.

Hawkeye sat waiting for what felt like hours, although the hands of the clock had only ticked past three minutes. The nurse had quickly cleaned the blood from her arms, and was standing by the sink. 

Riza sighed and thought to herself. ‘Havoc said he wasn’t mad...’ And yet doubts still plagued her mind, and worse yet, she was having trouble remembering what had happened. She exhaled when she heard footsteps from down the hall, her heart skipped a beat and she looked to the door. Mustang stood in the doorway, he looked tired, strained. His eyes shone with something that Hawkeye couldn’t quite place. Relief? Sadness? She wasn’t sure.

Mustang stared at her, she was still pale. Dark circles hung on her eyes, nearly sunken in amongst the bandages, but they were still hers. He felt frozen, like time had stopped. There she was, right in front of him and yet...he didn’t know what to say or what to do.

Riza stared back at him, unsure of how to continue. She parted her cracked lips, saying in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. “I’m sorry...”

“What?” Mustang’s face contorted in sorrow. His instincts took over and he strode towards her with haste. At the sudden movement, Hawkeye flinched and put her hands up timidly in defense. Once realizing her actions, she saw how hurt Mustang became. She didn’t know what she thought he would do, but what he did next was something she didn’t expect. He kneeled down in front of her and put his hands up, they stayed like that for a few moments until Hawkeye’s hands relaxed, lowering them to her lap and he looked up at her with sad eyes. He held out his hands to her.

She inhaled slowly and put her hands in his, letting him gently encase them around hers. His hands began to tremble and he lowered his forehead to rest upon her knees. 

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Havoc, Furey, Breda, and Falman poked their heads around in silence to watch the scene unfold.

Mustang’s shoulders tensed, threatening to shake. He inhaled sharply, whispering. “I thought I had lost you again...”

Hawkeye’s throat tightened on her words. “I was worried...that you wouldn’t come look for me...”

His head snapped up in disbelief. “Wh-What do you mean?” Mustang shook his head. “I haven’t stopped looking for you...finding you and knowing that you were alive somewhere...out there, too damn stubborn to die...” his voice softened, but still cracking at the end. “...It’s the only thing that kept me going. I wouldn’t have stopped searching for you until my dying breath.” 

Riza hid her face, tears brimming at her eyes and she clutched his hands tighter. They held each other, both of them having waited so long for this moment.

Havoc and the other men quietly watched the two, and suddenly it hit him. After all this time, Second Lieutenant Havoc finally understood just what exactly went on between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye, and as he felt a tear on his cheek, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.


	21. Bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here is a little chapter to get you guys through because I will be away for a whole week! 'm going out of state and won't have a lot of internet, but don't worry, I will still be writing so that I can post as soon as I get back! Thank you guys all for being so awesome! Here you go, I hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 21: Bittersweet

Roy and Riza held hands for a while, just breathing in the relief of seeing one another again. Though it had only been a short time, it had been the hardest time apart, for both of them. Taking a couple more moments, he tentatively looked up at her and when she looked back, he smiled and slowly cupped her cheek. His heart sounded with joy when she leaned into his touch. 

“I’m going to stand up, can I sit next to you?” Mustang asked softly.

Riza nodded and watched his movements until noticing the men with their heads peeking around the doorframe. When she had spotted them, the team quickly retreated, not wanting to get in trouble with their superior for having witnessed a more personal encounter. Her lips turned upwards for the first time as Mustang, now sitting beside her on the bed, leaned into her with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“I think we have a couple of stalkers.” 

“It seems so.” Her voice was still weak, but she was amused nonetheless. “I’m glad they’re here.”

Mustang looked up at the doorway. “Are you coming in or not?”

Furey appeared first, his eyes glistening. “Thank you! We have been waiting for so long!”

Havoc, Breda and Falman entered after, each of them with a small rush of excitement.

“It’s good to see you awake.” Breda was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s been tough without you.”

Havoc chuckled. “Yeah, we missed you a lot. It just wasn’t the same without you around.” 

“We’ve been so anxious!” Falman sat down on a chair, the other following suit. “How are you feeling?”

Riza’s heart swelled at the men’s concern, she hadn’t realized how important she was to them, her eyes stung but she resolved not to cry in front of them. “I’m sorry that I worried you all…” She gave them a small smile. “...but I’m really thankful to have all of you.”

Roy put a comforting hand on her shoulder as the nurse had come back in, carrying a cup of water. “Pardon me, Gentlemen. Now that she’s up there’s still a little bit of business to take care of.” She handed it to Riza who took it gratefully, the nurse smiled at her. “Drink this. We’ll have to keep you on an IV still but this will help too.”

“Thank you…” Hawkeye took a sip of water, a small ripple of anxiety turned in her stomach. “...I’m sorry...about earlier…”

The men’s expressions saddened until the nurse chuckled. “Oh don’t worry about that. It’s scary waking up somewhere you’re not familiar with. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.” She smiled at her and put her hands on her hips. “Now, how about we try and get some food in you?”

Riza’s eyes widened and she nodded slowly. Food. The pangs in her stomach finally rivaled the pain from her injuries and she realized just how hungry she was. 

“Alright then.” The nurse looked at Mustang’s men. “You’re welcome to eat too, I’ll bring you some as well.”

Havoc winked at the nurse. “You’re too kind, Miss.”

She rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. There was a pause of awkward silence. The men in the room shared the same, pressing thought. ‘Do we ask her about what happened?’

Surprisingly, Hawkeye was the first to speak about it. “Did you go to the Fort?”

“Fort Windsor, you mean?” Falman asked tentatively.

She nodded and Mustang answered. “We came here first because of the blizzard, but by the time we got there, whatever happened there was over.”

“I see…” Riza said. “...Was there anyone left?”

“Just one.”

“A man named Patrick Dawes.” Furey interjected happily. “He told us about how you saved him. It’s how we knew you had actually been there.”

“Patrick’s alive?” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Where is he now?”

“We sent him home. He wanted to stay but we thought it best to get him back to his family. Briggs gave him a trusted escort, just in case.” Breda smiled reassuringly.

Havoc added quickly. “We told him we would give him a call as soon as you were found. I’ll call him again to tell him you’ve woken up.”

Riza bit her lip, thinking. “What did he tell you...about what happened at the Fort?”

“A few things.” Mustang started. “Mostly the basics, the lack of food and water, the hard labor and what they were having you build. The weird uniforms and about the death of a soldier named Malcom, among many others.”

“He said there were more, really strange things that he couldn’t quite remember.” Falman added.

“Like...his memory was foggy?” Riza looked up at the men, receiving their nods as clarification. “That’s good to know. There’s a lot of things I don’t remember…” General Boeller’s face flashed through her mind, and she softly put pressure on her aching side wound where his knife had plunged into her.

“It’s okay.” Mustang said calmly. “There’s no rush to it. You just woke up, no one expects you to try and piece everything together right now.”

The nurse walked back into the room with a rolling cart full of soup bowls, it’s savory aroma wafted through the air. General Armstrong entered behind her and looked Riza up and down. 

“It’s good to see you are awake.” Armstrong pulled up another chair. “I always knew you were tough, but now I see what true endurance looks like.” 

“Th-Thank you…” Riza stuttered, wondering if she was still dreaming. Since when did General Oliveir Mira Armstrong ever compliment one of Mustang’s men?

Mustang quirked an eyebrow at the General. “She’s not for sale, you know…I’m going to let you recruit her.”

Armstrong narrowed her eyes at Roy. “Pity.” 

The nurse handed Riza a bowl of soup, breaking the tension. “Careful now, it’s a bit hot.”

She looked down at the bowl of soup in her bandaged hands, the warmth of the dish spread happiness through her like a wildfire. 

“Everything okay?” Mustang said gently, holding his own bowl now. 

“Yeah…” Riza smiled at him. “It’s just been a while, is all.”

She took a small spoonful and raised it to her lips. While it was still a little hot, she didn’t care. The temperature, the flavor, it made her realize once again, how much she had missed actual food. 

The group sat and ate, talking about things though straying away from too many hard hitting topics for Hawkeye.They knew there would be a time and a place, for now having a small bit of normalcy for her was important to them.

After a while, the bowls had been discarded back on the cart and as they talked Riza slowly started to feel waves of pain from her side and thigh. She placed a hand over her stab wound and took a deep breath.

“Are you in pain?” Mustang asked, his face paling in concern. 

“Yes...just a bit.”

Roy shook his head, here she was, having survived all that and she was still trying to be strong in front of everyone else. “Maybe we should let you rest some more?”

Riza sighed, she wanted to stay up with everyone, having missed them all so much. But she knew he was right, things would heal a lot faster the more she rested.

The nurse came over to Hawkeye and checked her temperature and made sure her bandages had stayed clean. “Well, I think that’s enough for one day, huh? I’ll put some more pain medication in your IV, but it will make you drowsy so you’ll most likely be falling back asleep.”

“Okay.” Hawkeye nodded, letting Roy help her lay back down and pull the sheets up to a comfortable position. General Armstrong took her leave and the men put their chairs to the side of the room, getting ready to head out as well. They all said their good nights to Hawkeye before leaving the room one by one. 

Breda stuck his head back through the doorway. “We will be going into North City while you’re asleep, is there anything you want us to bring back for you?” 

Riza shook her head. “Oh that’s okay, I’m fine.” 

Breda smirked. “Not even some chocolate?”

Riza looked away trying to hide a grin, but failed miserably. She nodded and Breda laughed. “You got it, Riza.”

Mustang chuckled. “Your one weakness, huh?”

“You’ve always known that…” Riza smiled, settling into the sheets as the nurse adjusted her IV.

“That’s true.”

“What are you going to North City for?” She asked.

“Well, after what we found, finding you was our first priority. But now that we have you safe and sound, we have to report it to Fuhrer Grumman.” He gently reached for her hand and she took it firmly. 

“I see. I’ll rest for now, but I want to help.” Riza yawned and her eyes started to droop a bit, the medication already flowing through her system. The nurse had left the two alone moments ago.

“All in due time, Lieutenant.” Roy smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ve just walked yourself, injured, through a canyon in a blizzard. I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”

Her eyelids started to flutter close, and her breathing growing more even by the second. “I had...some help…”

“Help?” Mustang asked.

“Yeah...I saw him…” 

“Saw who?”

Now her eyes were closed completely and she was drifting off, caught somewhere between awake and asleep. “I...saw...Hughes…”

“Hughes?” Roy’s eyes widened. That was impossible. “But Maes Hughes is…”

Riza was now fully asleep, leaving Mustang to himself. He felt his eyes sting and tears well up, threatening to spill over any moment. He looked up to the ceiling and gave Riza’s hand another squeeze, whispering softly.

“Thank you, Hughes…Thank you…”


	22. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack! Omg I'm finally back from my vacation(took a little longer to get back than I had thought but I was finally able to return and write the next chapter!) Welcome back to my weekly updates and thank you all for the well wishes! (This vacation gave me some great inspiration for my next fic! So if you like what I write be sure to stay tuned for my next story after I finish this one! :) ) Anyways! I hope you enjoy this chapter, lemme know what you think!

Chapter 22: Uncertainty

Briggs Fortress, two hours later  
Mustang shrugged on a clean winter coat, feeling refreshed from his shower. While exhaustion still plagued him, he had more pressing matters to deal with and had accepted the fact that there wouldn’t be any rest. Not until they had Riza back home in Central and whoever was behind this tragedy was rotting in prison. Roy made his way back down to the infirmary to check on Riza for a last time before he and his men headed out to North City for a few hours.

“I’m still wary of leaving Lieutenant Hawkeye here by herself.” Mustang said to Havoc as they walked briskly down the hallway to her room.

“I’ve been assured that General Armstrong herself will be guarding Hawkeye.” Havoc grinned.

“That makes me feel so much better, thank you.” The General’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

The two walked in to find Hawkeye still sound asleep, Armstrong sitting in a chair beside the bed. The female General looked at the men, her face composed and arms crossed over her sword.

“I see you are off to North City. You’ll be sure to tell Fuhrer Grumman that I am ready to cooperate if he should need me for anything.” She said.

“I’m sure we will all be questioned at some point, but I will let him know what a help you have been in finding our Lieutenant and examining the scene at Fort Windsor.” Mustang nodded to her. “Please take good care of her while we are gone.”

“I will.” Armstrong looked at Mustang with a smirk. “Besides, I may have her convinced to join Briggs and work for me by the time you get back.”

Roy turned to Havoc so quickly, the second Lieutenant thought he got whiplash. “On second thought, I think I’m going to stay here-”

Havoc grabbed Mustang by the shoulder of his coat and started to drag him out of the room. “Come on, General. We’ve got business to attend to.”

General Armstrong watched them leave, shaking her head before turning back to the soldier sleeping in front of her. “Stupid man…” She sighed and propped her head on her hand boredly. “It really is a pity you care too much for him, Lieutenant Hawkeye…”

Fort Briggs, two weeks later  
The morning was clear and the sky was blue, the snow glistened in the rays of sun, but inside Fort Briggs, a storm was brewing. Mustang paced in front of the infirmary room, lost in thought. Each of his men all stood in a row against the wall, watching the General each time he would pass them. Finally, Havoc sighed.

“Chief, she’ll be out soon. She’s just getting dressed.”

“I know that, Havoc.” Mustang kept his step in time. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What are you worried about?” Breda asked.

“A lot of things.”

“Okay but...” Furey piped in tentatively. “Sir, could you please stop pacing? It’s making us nervous.”

Mustang stopped abruptly at the sound of the door clicking open. Riza thanked the Nurse and turned towards the men with a small smile. 

Mustang smiled back, a softer gaze on his first Lieutenant. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes, please.” 

The men watched in awe at how their leader’s mood could change in an instant. Havoc shook his head, thinking to himself. ‘And I thought he was going to be less antsy once Hawkeye was found safe...’

The team made their way to the Briggs entrance, exchanging proper thank yous and goodbyes to various soldiers and staff along the way. One in particular, was needed the most.

At the front gate, standing outside their awaiting vehicle, General Olivier Armstrong stood stoically with Miles behind her. Mustang nodded to her but before he could speak, Hawkeye clicked her heels together and saluted her. 

“Thank you, General Armstrong, for your kindness and hospitality. For everything.”

“At ease, Lieutenant.” General Armstrong smirked. “I am relieved you were found alive.” Her expression turned serious once more. “I assume you already know the challenges ahead of you. The road of recovery is a long one, but I am confident in you, Lieutenant Hawkeye. And if you ever find yourself in need, you know where Briggs will be.”

Lieutenant Hawkeye smiled softly and nodded before loading up into a car with the rest of her men. Mustang hesitated at the car door, turning around to face Armstrong.  
“Thank you. I won’t forget this.” 

The Ice Queen turned on her heel, walking away while waving her hand casually. “Buzz off before I run you through with my sword.”

Mustang rolled his eyes and chuckled, getting into the car next to Hawkeye.

It didn’t take too long to reach the station, but the line for tickets was particularly long that day. The men and Hawkeye settled on a bench while Falman acquired their train tickets and boarding passes. General Mustang opted to stand, his eyes examining the train station carefully.

Riza took a deep breath as she checked the large clock tower in the middle of the station. She tried to be patient, but was feeling restless despite the dull ache of her still healing wounds. Slowly placing a hand on her side, she hoped to apply some relief without anyone noticing.

She checked the clock again, half an hour had passed since Falman had left them. Havoc had stepped aside to smoke and Furey and Breda had struck up a conversation about train mechanics. Riza noticed Mustang had been watching the clock diligently, he was anxious to return to Central as well.

‘What will it be like to be home again? Life can’t go back to normal, at least not exactly...’ The thoughts echoed in her mind, causing her brow to furrow. Riza realized her posture had slumped and she didn’t feel like herself. Typically she would have been standing on high alert, perhaps behind Mustang as per usual. Straight backed and in uniform like the rest of them. She pulled at the sleeves of her winter coat. It felt strange to not be in uniform around her team, having had to settle for clothes based on comfort. ‘Of course...they couldn’t put me in uniform. I doubt I’ll have a job after this...’

The idea frightened her, that after all this, what would she have to do to redeem herself. ‘I falsified documents, lied not only to my Superior Officer but to the military itself. Would they even let me come back? Could I be Court Marshalled for this?’ She had tried to push the image away, recycle it and save it for later but it kept creeping up every now and again. 

Falman approached with tickets in hand, much to her salvation. Hawkeye stood slowly, silently frustrated by the sting of pain when she moved. Mustang held out his hand but she shook her head, remaining stoic as she rose. Much to her dismay, the train station stretched out farther than she had remembered and she focused on trying to breathe normally.

Breda and Havoc loaded the suitcases onto the dolly and the group stood outside the entrance to their train car, waiting to be seated. Hawkeye desperately wanted to sit down but the train car would not be ready for another twenty minutes or so for maintenance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to fight off the desire for sleep.   
A familiar face appeared among the crowd, striding briskly over to the group. Hawkeye noticed him first before alerting Mustang, who turned his shoulder only to come face to face with Major Miles.

“Ah, Major...What are you doing here?” Mustang greeted him with inquiry, then his expression grew dark when Miles gave him a look of warning. 

“We need to speak, immediately.”

“Yes? Go ahead?” 

“No.” Miles looked at Hawkeye then back to Mustang and signaled to speak without Lieutenant Hawkeye present.

Mustang disapproved but knew he had no choice, he turned back to his team. “Sergeant Furey, please take the Lieutenant to sit down. It will be sometime before the train car is ready.”

The young Sergeant saluted. “Yes, Sir.”

Hawkeye followed him to a bench just a few cars down from the group, lowering herself gently to the seat.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant?” Furey asked.

“Yes, thank you.” She lied.

“I wonder what they are discussing over there.” He wondered, watching Miles talk to Mustang, Breda, Falman and Havoc in a huddled group.

Riza watched them too. “I can only assume it involves me somehow.”

“Oh...” He shrunk a bit, unsure of how to respond.

She sighed. “It’s alright though, I trust the General to tell me when the time is right.” 

He nodded and they grew quiet for a while, before Furey scratched his head nervously. “Hey...Lieutenant?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember the last time we were in the North? And our train was delayed for five hours?” Furey watched a small smile form on Hawkeye’s face, and he continued. “Mustang allowed us to wander around North City for a bit. I think he and Havoc went to check out a cigar shop while Breda and Falman were looking for that oddities shop?”

“Yeah...” Riza felt the memory of that day flood back to her. “We found that bookshop with all those classic novels...”

Furey mused further. “It had some of the most obscure books too! But it was so dusty in there, it made my allergies go crazy.”

Hawkeye actually laughed. “And you started sneezing so bad you scared the shop owner’s cat...” 

Furry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah...that poor cat...”

Hawkeye continued to smile, now staring off into the distance. “Hot chocolate...”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah...” Hawkeye continued to look as if looking at something far away. “We had hot chocolate, remember?”

“Oh!” Furry realized what she was talking about. “That’s right. There was that little cafe just around the corner on our way back to the station.”

She nodded. “That was a good day.” 

Furry watched her carefully, she was smiling yet her eyes looked so sad. He bit his lip and looked around the station, finally spotting exactly what he was looking for.

“I’ll be right back, Lieutenant.” Furey stood quickly. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

She nodded and off he went, disappearing amongst the crowd and leaving her to her thoughts.

‘I wish I could remember what happened...it would be so much easier if I could tell the story...why is there a blank spot in my memories...?’ 

Riza looked down at her hands, still wrapped with bandages and though she couldn’t see them, she knew the sensitive skin was still healing underneath. ‘I’ve been hurt before, I’ve almost died before, I’ve been through dangerous and scary things before...why was this any different?’

Her eyes had dropped to the ground now, time seemed to escape her and she lost track of where she was. The clanking of metal from nearby construction triggered a flash of a memory, one of her hammering something to a tank. Steam billowed from the engine of a train and she recalled a brief moment of steam in the stark shower, her uniform gone. Loud voices called to one another on the train platform and she could have sworn she heard the sound of gunfire from above. Her eyes snapped upwards to find that everything was how it should be. There was no danger, just people going about their day and trains coming in and out. There was no gunfire, had she been imagining it? Was she starting to remember something?

“Lieutenant?” Mustang’s voice called her back to reality. “Everything okay? Where’s Sergeant Furey?”

“U-Uhm…” Before Hawkeye could respond, Furey had returned holding two cups of steaming hot chocolate and handed one to her. “O-Oh. Thank you.”

The young Sergeant adjusted his glasses and smiled. “No problem.” He turned to Mustang. “Apologies, General. We were getting cold and a hot drink sounded nice.”

Havoc smirked. “What? You didn’t buy any for us?”

“That’s rude.” Breda teased. “I thought we were pals…”

“Leave him alone.” Falman sighed. “The train car is ready to board now.”

The men gathered to leave and Mustang held out his hand to Riza once more, this time she took it and he helped her to stand. They boarded the train and took their seats in a private compartment. As the convoy departed from North City, the team fell into a comfortable silence, letting Hawkeye sip her hot chocolate and watch the scenery go by. It didn’t take long after that for her to finally doze off, the problems facing her fading away for a short time.

Mustang watched her carefully, trying to enjoy her being close and safe, but a new worry was just recently added to his list. 

“Is she really asleep?” Falman asked quietly.

“Yeah…” Mustang was sure of it, he always knew when it was real or when she was pretending.

Havoc adjusted uncomfortably in the seat next to the General. “Things are going to be difficult when we get back.”

“What’s the plan for when we return, Sir?” Breda asked. 

Roy slowly removed his gaze from his first Lieutenant, focusing on the men in front of him. “We protect her. I won’t let him anywhere near her.”

“Who?” Furey inquired.

“General Boeller. The man who was in charge of Fort Windsor.” Mustang’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “He’s alive and in Central.”


	23. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 23 y'all! Sorry this one was a bit delayed, I had a crazy week at work, had to work five days of doubles in a row and then I got a wee bit sick( Just some migraines, mostly from this dreaded Cali heatwave *blech* is it autumn yet?) but I managed to get this chapter out to ya. This chapter is on the shorter side because the next chapter is a BIG one! Tha nk you all for reading and commenting! <3<3<3 Lemme know whatcha think!

Chapter 23: Home

Somewhere between North City and Central City  
Roy stepped out onto the back of the train, the evening air racing past him as the vehicle jostled toward home. He took a deep breath and ruffled his hair, slowly pulling his hand down to massage the bridge of his nose. ‘How am I going to tell her?’ He wrestled with the thought of having to tell Riza that the General from Fort Windsor was back in Central, that he was alive and there were so many possibilities of what could happen. As he leaned on the railing, the door behind him slid open and Havoc stepped out with a cigarette in hand. 

“Yo, Chief. I thought I’d find you out here.”

Mustang turned to his subordinate. “I needed a space to think. I thought Breda and Falman trying to teach Furey how to play poker would be a good distraction for her.”

“Well it’s working so far.” Havoc chuckled, trying to light his cigarette but failing due to the wind and movement of the train. “Besides, if anyone’s gonna teach Furey how to have a great poker face, it’s going to be Hawkeye.”

Mustang smiled, thinking of how much money he has lost to Hawkeye at poker night over the years before sighing. “How am I going to tell her, Havoc?”

“That’s a tough one. It’s hard to know how she is going to react, afterall, she’s hardly talked about it since there is so much she can’t seem to remember…”

“We know the events that she can remember match up with Patrick’s, so at least we have that, but I have a feeling there is so much more to it.” Roy bit his lip, dreading the day he’d have to hear her recollect more traumatizing experiences. The ones she could recall were hellish enough.

“Do you think he’ll come after her?” Havoc asked, walking over to lean on the railing next to his Superior. 

“It’s what I fear most about bringing her home, now that I know he’s there, and possibly waiting for us. We know that Patrick is being put under watch protection by Briggs men as we speak.”

The blonde lieutenant nodded. “And Hawkeye will have us.”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with her.” Mustang fiddled with his alchemy gloves nervously. “Perhaps it would be easier for her if I didn’t tell her at all. She could rest easier that way-”

“Don’t be stupid, Sir.”

Mustang snapped a look at Havoc. “Don’t talk to me that way.”

“Apologies, Sir. But not telling her is a stupid idea.”

“Why is that?”

“What happens if they take them all to trial, isn’t that what Miles said? That this will most likely go to some form of court proceeding? What happens when Hawkeye has to testify and he is suddenly sitting in the same room? Or if he comes after her randomly? Besides, you know she will ask questions, you know she’ll find out eventually.” 

They were silent for a while, Havoc letting Mustang mull over the conversation still tense in the air. 

“Let’s just focus on getting her home first. We’ll take it one day at a time.” Mustang finally spoke, pulling on a glove and snapping, lighting Havoc’s previously unlit cigarette. 

“Thanks, Chief.”

Central City, a few hours later  
The team had made it off the train and while unloading their bags from the dolly, Mustang’s eyes scanned the train platform for any sign of danger. Riza watched him intently, wondering what he would be looking for, and the fact that he still hadn’t told her anything was starting to make her nervous. 

As soon as they were out of the station and loaded into military cars, they made their way to Hawkeye’s apartment. She watched the familiar streets pass by her and she felt a twinge of relief to be home again, away from the snow and ice. Mustang watched a small smile form on her lips as they neared her place, how badly he just wanted her to feel the peace of being home but he knew he had to tell her what was coming.

When they arrived at Hawkeye’s apartment, Roy dismissed Furey, Falman and Breda so they could get some rest for the next day. They saluted and quickly went their separate ways. Riza was grateful to see them go and get rest but happy to know she wasn’t completely alone yet. Havoc and Mustang helped her inside to get her settled. 

Riza looked around her small apartment, the dust and the familiar smell and the warmth of it all made her heart swell. The usual pitter patter of paws was missing and she looked back at Roy. “Where is Hayate?”

Mustang’s eyes softened. “He’s still with Lieutenant Catalina right now. We weren’t sure when we would be back tonight so we told her to come to Central tomorrow.” 

“I see.” She longed to see her sweet puppy, having missed him almost as much as Roy, but she was happy to know that Hayate had been in good hands. “I’ll have to thank her for taking good care of him.”

Hawkeye made her way to the simple sofa, slowly lowering herself down to sit, another wave of exhaustion crashing over her. General Mustang smiled and looked around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Havoc came back to them, having made his rounds in the apartment, checking that the windows were still locked and the closets were void of any danger. 

“Everything checks out, Chief.” 

Riza’s eyes narrowed, unsure of why they were checking her apartment for danger. Despite her desire for sleep, she needed to know what was being hidden from her. 

Mustang nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” He leaned in closer to Havoc and spoke low so that Hawkeye couldn’t overhear. “You made the phone call? They’ll be here tomorrow?”

“I got it all worked out, Sir. They’ll be arriving in Central in the morning.”

“Perfect. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant Havoc. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jean saluted and turned to Hawkeye. “You get some rest too, okay? I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Havoc.” She smiled, watching him walk out the door. As soon as the Lieutenant was gone she looked at Roy. “So... were you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He jumped slightly at her question. “Right...There is something...we have to discuss.” He came around to sit on the sofa next to her, he rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his neck. 

“So what is it?” Riza watched him with scrutiny, she could tell there was something gnawing at him, more so than the usual stress he had been under. Her chest tightened, terror creeping in at the idea that they would have to discuss what to do about her position. She knew she would have to face the consequences when she returned, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. 

“I...I need to tell you something, and I need to understand that everything is going to be okay.”

“You’re scaring me, Roy. Just say it.”

“General Boeller.” 

Riza’s eyes widened. His name sent a chill down her spine and an ache through her wounds. “What about him?” She asked but now she regretted it, did she really want to know? She hadn’t thought about what may have been his fate, Riza had hoped he had perished somewhere after she had escaped. She had hoped that her boot to his face had been it, that it would’ve been the last time she’d ever see him again.

Mustang looked at her slowly, his eyes trying to gage her reaction. “He’s alive...and he is here, in Central.”

The room was still and Hawkeye’s breath hitched, stopping like she couldn’t move. Boeller’s face, deranged with anger, flashed through her mind. Her hand moved to the stab wound on her side, remembering how it felt when Boeller’s knife had pierced her skin. Her throat closed tighter and she couldn’t do anything, say anything while Mustang just watched her, his face pale and unsure of what she would do. 

She fought between the fear shutting her down and the desire to stay strong in front of Mustang. This time, the fear took over and she broke down. Tears slid down her cheeks and she gasped for air, her hands covering her face just wanting to escape, to fade away where Boeller’s face couldn’t haunt her anymore. 

Warm hands grasped hers and slowly pulled them down from her face. Mustang was now in front of her on his knees, his soft, low voice lulling her back from the edge. 

“Look at me.” He said gently, lifting her chin upwards before cupping her face with his hands, allowing her hands to grasp at his sleeves. She finally looked at him and he tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his voice remained gentle but instilled with a firm confidence. “I will not let him get anywhere near you...okay? If he comes within...within even a five mile radius of you I-I...I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I promise. I promise you that. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but continued to cry, suddenly feeling the weight of everything hitting her all at once. The fact that she was still in danger, that now Mustang and her team might be in danger, the fact that there was still so much she couldn’t remember, it all came down around her.

Riza felt Roy’s arms wrap around her, slowly pulling her into him, noting how careful he was in doing so to not agitate the wounds on her body. He held her there and she had no doubt that he would’ve stayed there holding her even if the world had started to end. 

After a while, her tears began to dry and while in his arms, her breathing got easier. His hand traced her spine in a calming movement, only stopping when she began to pull away a bit. 

Hawkeye’s throat was dry and she wanted to speak but couldn’t yet. He gently wiped any remaining tears from her face and ran a hand through her hair. Roy continued to speak in his soft, low voice. “I’ll get you some water, do you want me to heat up some tea?”

She just nodded and he stood slowly, grabbing the blanket from the chair nearby and wrapping it around her shoulders. Roy brought her a glass of water and kissed the top of her head before walking back towards the kitchen behind her. It took Riza a second to realize what he had just done. Mustang had never shown that kind of affection towards her before and she turned slightly to watch him in the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove and pulling out two cups from the cupboard. It had been so natural that it didn’t appear to her that he even realized what he had done. She turned back to face away from him, a smile spread across her face. It was going to be a dangerous road ahead, but for now, she decided she would enjoy the feeling of being home. Home with him beside her.


	24. United

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh! You all are so awesome. Thank you for all of your kind words and support! I had a much better week and I am feeling a lot better! Like, for reals you have no idea what it means to me lol So thank you all for reading and as promised, this chapter is a lot longer and super fun! Y'all are seriously the best readers a fanfic writer could ask for! So here it is, chapter 24!!! Enjoy~

Chapter 24: United

1 Week Ago  
The sound of a wrench tightening a bolt on a metal leg reverberated within the room, the leg in focus was currently trying to wiggle out of the current predicament. 

“Ow! That hurts! Stop!”

“Just hold still!” 

“No! I told you I don’t want that on there if it’s gonna hurt!”

“If you’d stop moving it wouldn’t hurt so much! Since when did you become such a baby?”

“Don’t call me that unless you’re trying to be cute!”

“Don’t imply that I’m not being cute when working on your automail, Edward!” Winry scoffed as she tightened another piece onto her fiance’s leg. 

Edward pouted, crossing his arms and muttering something about not needing an extra support on his leg. 

“I’ve never seen a grown man pout as much as your brother.” Mei giggled as she sipped her tea, sitting at the kitchen table with Alphonse. 

Al rested his cheek on his hand, watching his brother with amusement. “Are you surprised? It’s Ed we are talking about here…he’s always getting into trouble.”

“Give me a breeeak you two...I fall off one little roof and nobody lets you forget it!” Ed scowled at his brother and the Xingese princess, who simply laughed in response.

Winry sighed and finished the last piece of the new addition to his automail. “Be thankful you broke this one and not the other. This one I can fix, bone is another story, Ed.” 

Edward rolled his eyes before getting up to stretch the metal leg, kissing the top of Winry’s head as he stood. “Good thing you’re the best mechanic around.”

The phone rang, it’s shrill sound cutting through the air. 

“Can you get that, Ed? I’ve got oil on my hands.”

He walked over and put the receiver to his ear. “Rockbell Automail in Resembool. Edward speaking.”

“Hey, Fullmetal.”

“Lieutenant Havoc?” Edward blinked in surprise, turning to face the room. Alphonse snapped up to watch the phone conversation unfold. “Yeah, it’s been a while. What does the Co-General, sorry...what does want from me now? Tell him I’m retired.” 

“Look I know this is out of the blue but, we actually did have a favor to ask.” Havoc’s tone was low, more serious than Ed was used to. Havoc sounded tired. “Is your brother home too?”

“He just got back from Xing about a week ago, why? What’s wrong?”

Alphonse’s brows furrowed and he stood up to get closer to the phone. He could hear the Lieutenant’s voice on the other line.

“Something...happened. It’s...Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

“Lieutenant Hawkeye? Is she okay?” Ed looked at his brother, the two of them now being joined by the girls. 

“There was an incident at the new Fort, up in the North.” Havoc began a brief explanation of the last few months. “...so we found her, thankfully, but she has been injured. We have her recovering here at Briggs but when we get back to Central we are going to have to jog her memory a bit. The investigation is going to mark her a key witness. It’s going to be brutal.”

Ed sighed and looked at his brother for approval, before clearing his throat. “So, how can we help?”

“Can you meet us in Central? Mustang thinks the two of you might bring her a bit of comfort when we get home. Besides, the evidence collected from the Fort is strange, and if anyone is good at deciphering strange scientific nonsense, it’s you two.” Havoc chuckled.

“You got that right.” Ed smiled and pulled out a pen, writing down the date and time that the Second Lieutenant gave him. “Alright, we’ll be there. Thanks for letting us know. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Alphonse. “Looks like we are headed to Central.”

Central City, A week later (back to present)  
Riza’s eyes fluttered open then immediately closed again, reveling in the warmth of familiar sheets and pillows. She snuggled into them, feeling safe and smiled at the feeling of sunshine streaming through her windows. 

‘Sunshine?’ Her eyes snapped open and she bolted upwards only to gasp in pain, clutching her side and slowly falling back down to the sheets. Riza took a deep breath and once the agony subsided, she looked around the walls of her bedroom. ‘My bedroom…’ It was still jarring to be home after having been gone for so long. Slowly getting up and using her nightstand to stand up, she looked out the window to the cityscape she had long since missed. Riza put on a sweater hanging in her closet to combat the morning air, not wanting to be deprived of heat any longer. 

Stepping out to the living room, she was taken aback by the sleeping General still on her sofa. She walked over to him, using her sniper skills to approach him without disturbing his slumber, his position almost made her laugh. 

Roy Mustang lay, sprawled out with one of Riza’s books covering his face. ‘Typical…’ She reminisced on how many times she had found him in that exact position. Riza shook her head and went about making some morning tea and finding something for them to eat. 

Sitting up, Mustang rubbed his face and set the book aside, slowly coming out of his unsettled sleep. He turned around to watch Riza look through her cupboards for something. 

“Good morning.” He said awkwardly. It hadn’t been the first time he’d slept on her couch, many nights of being at the bar and her apartment being closer than his had resulted in such hospitality from Hawkeye. But this time he had not stayed because of that, he had stayed to keep her safe and to make her feel better, it was different. 

She smiled a bit. “Good morning to you too. How was the couch?”

“I’ve had worse.” He said sheepishly. 

Riza looked at the cupboards and then back to the General. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in my cupboards at the moment…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll grab something on the way…” He looked at her, his face growing in concern. “Are you sure you want to start today? Maybe you should rest another-”

“No.” She said firmly. “It has to be done. Besides, the sooner I figure out what happened to me and others, the sooner we can claim justice for them. And if he is here in Central, then I want him behind bars as soon as possible.”

“I know.” Mustang said softly, standing from the sofa and crossing to her in the kitchen. “It is going to hurt to remember...if you are able to.”

“It always does.” She mused sadly. “But it doesn’t change the urgency. I know it is going to be difficult but…”

Mustang watched her, curious as to the continuation of her words.

“But...I’m thankful to have you. Thank you.” Riza put her sleeved arm over her eyes, hiding the tears that were welling up, the lump in her throat forming. Suddenly, Roy’s arms were around her again, and she leaned into him and pressed her face into his chest. His grip remained stable, yet gentle around her. They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, not saying anything because they didn’t need to. 

Riza slowly pulled from him and made her way to the shower, careful to wrap her wounds and she quickly washed her hair. Once out and dried off, wrapping a robe around her she let Mustang have a turn to wash up. She quickly dressed in a pair of comfortable slacks and a light sweater, before laying out one of Mustang’s extra uniforms she had stored for him. Riza decided to pull her hair back into a low ponytail, decidedly so since putting it up tightly made the cut on her forehead twinge. She grabbed the crutch she had been using, as they would have to walk more than usual today at Central Command. 

Mustang dressed in his uniform, drying his hair with a towel. “You still carry around an extra uniform for me...I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” She smiled at him.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready.”

The two walked out of her apartment, locking the door and went on their way. They walked to the bakery across the street. Roy ordered them two coffees and two flaky pastries, their usual order and had already been paid before Riza could reach for her purse.

A military vehicle pulled up to the curb and Mustang held the door open for Riza. Once in, the car pulled away and headed towards Central Command Center. At the front entrance, Havoc, Furey, Breda and Falman stood at attention, still tired but with faces that were happy to be home. 

“Morning.” Roy greeted his team, signaling them to ease their salutes. 

“How are you feeling, Lieutenant Hawkeye?” Furey asked.

Riza smiled at them. “It was nice to sleep in my own bed, though I am feeling anxious being back here today.”

“Well don’t you worry, Hawk. We got your back.” Havoc grinned. Breda and Falman gave her a thumbs up. 

“We also have eyes on where General Boeller is. In fact, he has been placed on a house arrest as of this morning.” Falman added. “He isn’t allowed out until they begin a trial, and even then he is not to be seen within a mile of you or Sergeant Dawes besides the courtroom.”

“Right, the trial…” Riza looked at Mustang. “So it’s happening?”

“As far as we know. They are still conducting an investigation up North. Once those officers return from the clean up, they will determine it officially.” Mustang shot her a reassuring glance.

“However, it’s encouraged that we try to look through what evidence we have been given before turning it over to the investigations department, they’ll want to hear your side of the story as soon as possible.” Breda added.

“It makes sense.” Riza sighed, trying to fight through her nerves. 

“Then let’s get going.” General Mustang led the way, Hawkeye behind him while the men kept a guard formation around her. Even through their shoulders, she could hear whispering from clusters of nearby soldiers. 

Riza hated being the center of attention in most ways, but this was especially bad. Who knows what information has gotten out to the public, she hoped it was mostly empty gossip that she could easily squash.

“Is that Lieutenant Hawkeye I see?” 

A voice caught Riza’s attention, making the group stop as the person ahead of them spoke. She poked her head around Roy’s shoulder to see a familiar, friendly face. Maria Ross stood, beaming and flowing into a standard salute.

“It’s good to see you again, Ross.” The boys parted so that Maria could approach and hug Hawkeye gingerly. 

“Everyone was so worried about you. We really missed you around here.”

“We sure did.” Sergeant Brosh appeared behind Ross, giving Hawkeye a gentle pat on the shoulder. “We were so happy to hear that you were alive.”

“Thank you both.” Riza felt a wave of relief, talking to the two of them had distracted her from the others around them.

“We have to finish our assignment, but we’ll be sure to stop by the office before you go.” Ross gave Hawkeye another gentle hug before waving goodbye to team Mustang. 

They continued on their way to their office, rounding the corner to find Lieutenant Catalina standing outside the doors. As soon as she noticed the team, Rebecca let out a small shriek and bounded over, cupping Riza’s face and laughing. 

“I’ve missed you so much!” The two girls embraced, as two best friends would. “You had me SO SO worried, I couldn’t wait to see you! Trust me, I tried to! As soon as I heard you were found I packed my bags but SOMEBODY…” Rebecca eyed Mustang before turning back to her friend. “...said it would be more helpful if I had stayed home and waited for your return. I don’t know if it was more helpful to you or to Mustang but still! At least Havoc kept me informed.”

Riza couldn’t help but laugh at friend’s exuberation, Rebecca did have such an uncanny knack for talking a mile a minute. She was actually sort of glad her friend hadn’t been up in the North with them, it would have been an all out brawl between Rebecca, Mustang and the Ice Queen. 

“Well it’s always a pleasure talking to you, Catalina…” Havoc winked.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Rebecca quipped, a teasing smirk on her face. “But hey! You should go into the office, there’s someone waiting for you in there.”

Riza raised an eyebrow and walked past Rebecca to the office doors. The group watched with anticipation, all of them knowing full well who was behind the door. 

She turned the knob and entered the room, looking confused at first before seeing Hayate laying on the couch. He popped his head up at the sight of someone entering the room and it only took an instant for him to realize who it was. Hayate barked and scampered off the couch with a thud, he was so excited his entire coordination was thrown off as he stumbled over the coffee table and boxes trying to get to his master as fast as he could. His excited yips and whines as he jumped upwards at her legs echoed throughout the room. Riza was barely able to make her way to the couch, letting Hayate jump up and she tried to pet him as he continued to wiggle his entire body in excitement. Riza tried to stop the onslaught of puppy licks but failed miserably, laughing and petting his head trying to calm him down. Once Hayate finally settled into a low wine, she was able to hold him on her lap in a gentle manner, whispering coos of reassurance to her pup. Riza’s heart thumped with happiness and she felt tears well up in her eyes at the sound of Hayate’s happy whimpers.

“I missed you too, boy…” She snuggled him and he snuggled her back with puppy force.

Unbeknownst to her, the team had entered the office to watch the display, smiles plastered on their faces. Hayate finally noticed the rest of the people in the room, getting another burst of excitement and immediately ran to Mustang who knelt down to playfully pet the pup.

Furey leaned over to Havoc, asking in a hushed tone. “Isn’t it interesting that he ran up to greet Mustang first and none of us?” 

“Are you jealous?” Havoc snickered quietly.

“Hey, I give the pup a lot of treats okay?” Furey defended himself before Hayate started running to greet each person of the group with frantic happiness.

Mustang walked over to Hawkeye who was slowly composing herself. “I’m surprised you didn’t scold him for all the jumping.” He laughed softly.

“Well… normally I would have but…” Riza watched her puppy run from person to person, to anyone who would give him pets. “...It’s a special occasion.”

She looked around at the once familiar walls. It had been so long since she had been in this room, it still smelled of paper and ink but it’s once neat and organized desks were littered with boxes and stacks of papers.

“What is all this stuff?” Riza asked.

“Evidence.” Mustang picked up a file. “They are all the things we salvaged from the Fort.”

Rebecca put a hand on Riza’s shoulder. “We are hoping that there are clues and things we can use if it goes to trial.”

“And we thought that maybe if you looked at some of this-“ Havoc began, but was interrupted by two warning looks from Rebecca and Mustang. 

“I see...” Riza looked at them. “To see if I can remember anything, right?” 

Mustang spoke cautiously. “Yes...but only if you can, we don’t want to pressure you.”

“All in your own time.” Rebecca tried to reassure her, but Hawkeye knew they didn’t have time to waste.

“And we are here to help.” Furey smiled. “You’ve still got all of us!” Breda and Falman put their thumbs up, and Havoc nodded.

“We will be with you every step of the way.” Mustang smiled at her.

“Don’t forget about us!” Came a different voice from the doorway. Standing there were the smiling faces of two boys who were not boys anymore. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Elric brothers.” Havoc puffed on his cigarette with a grin.

“Hello, boys.” Mustang smiled. “it’s been too long.”

“We know.” Ed smirked. “I’ve been traveling up until recently. You caught us at a good time, Mustang. Both Al and I happened to be back in Resembool at the same time.”

“Al? You’ve been in Xing haven’t you?” Furey asked curiously.

“That’s right!” Al exclaimed. “Mei has been teaching me more about alkahestry.”

“Right.” Ed nodded. “But enough about us. We came to see someone in particular.” 

Hawkeye smiled wide as they both came over to her in a double embrace. Riza felt the happiness of the surprise wash over her. She had always cared for the boys a great deal.

“It’s so good to see you, boys.” 

Mustang felt pride in seeing his plan work so well. Just as he had suspected, the boys were sure to put Hawkeye in better spirits.

“I’m sorry about what you went through up North.” Al said, resting his hand on Riza’s shoulder. “But we are here to help in any way we can.” 

Ed nodded in agreement. 

“Thank you.” Riza inhaled, feeling a little more at ease. “I’m not sure what is going to happen next, but I am happy to know I have all of you.”

A knock at the open door caused everyone to turn. Major Armstrong’s large figure stood in the doorway, carrying a small stack of files. Mustang signaled for him to come in, and Armstrong shut the door behind him.

“OH LIEUTENANT HAWKEYE! IT BRINGS ME JOY TO KNOW YOU HAVE RETURNED HOME SAFELY AND-“ Armstrong’s muscular arms reached out to embrace her as everyone shouted to cut him off.

“Armstrong! Careful, she’s still injured.” Mustang had his hands up in defense.

“OH OF COURSE! My apologies!” He put a burly hand on Riza’s shoulder very gently, much to her relief. 

“Thank you, Armstrong.” 

“I do hope my sister didn’t give you too much trouble up there.” Major Armstrong asked.

“Trouble is an understatement.” Mustang rubbed the back of his neck, remembering the never ending pain there whenever Olivier was nearby. “But nonetheless, very helpful.”

Ed and Al snickered, recalling their encounters with the Ice Queen years before.

“Okay.” Havoc sighed, putting his hand up. “Now that we are all here and reunited, I think it’s time we began.”

Mustang nodded and his voice dropped into a more commanding tone. “Yes, now what we need to do is sort through all these files, papers, notes, and anything that can be considered evidence. As we know, General Boeller has returned to Central. We need to get him down for more than just negligence. Now, Hawkeye is also here to see if she can recognize any familiarities, but do not press her too much, is that understood?”

Everyone saluted. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good, now everyone choose a pile.”

Everyone quickly set off to work, emptying out boxes and sorting items into piles based on different kinds of evidence or similarities. 

Riza would look at an occasional obscure note or document but nothing seemed to strike her.

“Sir? What about this?” Furey held up a notebook, it’s pages containing just a list of four digit numbers, most of which were crossed out.

“Looks like some kind of code. Edward?” Mustang handed him the notebook. “What do you think of these?”

“I don’t know but if it’s some kind of code system, I bet I could figure it out?” Edward started flipping through the pages. “It definitely looks like a list for something?”

“Or of people maybe?” Al interjected. “Doesn’t the military give every soldier a code?”

“Yeah but not a four digit one.” Havoc said. “But maybe they gave everyone a different one when arriving at the Fort? I mean, they were stripped of their uniforms and badges and everything else upon arrival, right?”

“That’s what Dawes said, but he didn’t mention a code.” Breda scratched his chin. “Hawkeye do you remember being given a code?”

Riza bit her lip and tried to think. “Not that I can recall, at least, if they did then it wasn’t upon arrival.”

“Furey, let me see that file of entry data you had a minute ago.” Falman asked, immediately beginning to scan the numbers of soldiers who had been entered into the Fort. “Edward? How many codes are in that book?”

After a moment of counting the lines of numbers, Edward answered back. “About 50.”

“Interesting.” Falman said. “There were only about 100 soldiers in total that came to the Fort since it opened. 

Ed, Al and Falman all poured over the codes and tried to decipher them, meanwhile Rebecca found a large, metal box that had been locked up tight. 

“I can’t get this open, I might need a pry bar.” She said, tugging at the lock. “Unless we find the key for it somewhere?”

“We’ll keep an eye out...unless you wanna break it open?” Havoc grinned mischievously.

Rebecca matched his grin and held out her hand. “Hand me a tool then, Sir.”

Havoc searched for a tool while the others kept searching through paper after paper. About an hour went by, and everyone continued to mill about in their own business and separate tasks. 

Suddenly Edward shot out of his seat, holding up the codebook. “I’ve got it!” 

Everyone turned to him and Falman nodded. “We believe we have figured it out, you see, the four digit codes do in fact represent soldiers. The four numbers are the last four of their identification numbers, just reversed. We confirmed this by matching the soldiers to their original IDs. It matches.”

Edward was looking through the codebook while Falman explained everything, he began to scan a page and then flipped through the packet of all enlisted soldiers in the Fort. “Uhm...I think I found the Lieutenant’s code in here.” 

“Let me see.” Mustang strode over to Edward and began looking over it with him. “I think you’re right.”

“0398.” Mustang read aloud. “Does that sound familiar, Lieutenant?”

Riza bit her lip again, trying to think back. “It sounds...kind of familiar? At least...I think it does?”

Havoc looked at the papers and codes. “It looks like most of the soldiers are crossed out...except for four, it looks like?”

Riza used her crutch to cross over to them and see for herself. Falman looked at the numbers of the four soldiers. “Those four codes must mean something, perhaps ones they were keeping their eyes on?

“What was Lieutenant Hawkeye’s code again?” Havoc asked, looking over Falman’s shoulder. 

“0398.” Riza said without thinking. She blinked a few times while the group froze, staring at her. She took a moment and fidgeted awkwardly. “I guess...that was familiar after all.”

Mustang was about to speak when Rebecca finally pried the lid of the container open with a grunt and loud clatter, sending her flying backwards. The direction of the room turned to her and Havoc raced over. 

“What’s in here?” He asked, beginning to rummage through. Rebecca had picked herself back and joined Havoc.

“Looks like...reels of film?” Rebecca said as she held one up to the light.

Havoc read a label on one of the reels. “It looks like these have numbers on them as well, they look like the same codes from the book.”

“Maybe we should watch some of them? I can go grab the projector machine from the storeroom?” Furey chimed in.

“We need to be careful, we don’t know what’s on them.” Mustang said, his hand rested gently on Riza’s back. 

Alphonse knelt down to rummage through the box, picking up a reel he inhaled sharply. “You said Hawkeye’s code was 0398?”

“Yes.” Falman double checked the book, all eyes rested on Al.

Alphonse turned to them, eyebrows furrowed. “Uhm... Lieutenant Hawkeye? I think I found a reel with your name on it?”

The room was silent for a moment, looking at Hawkeye in worry.

“So...what should we do?” Breda asked.

“We watch it.” Riza said firmly.

“I don’t know...” Mustang rubbed the back of his head. “We don’t know what’s on there and we don’t want to upset you-“ 

“I want to watch it.” Riza said, her stoic expression masked the anxious feeling rising in her chest. She didn’t know what would be on that reel, but she didn’t want to be coddled. She needed to know.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” 

“I’m sure.”

Armstrong held up his large hand. “Perhaps someone else should watch it first?”

Riza shook her head, then looked around the room. “I know you are all trying to protect me, and... I appreciate all of your help and support, but there will come a time when it is imperative for me to remember what happened. That time is now.”

The room hesitated for a moment, but Hawkeye remained unwavering. Finally Mustang nodded, “Alright.”

Furey came back with the projector and set it up, connecting it to a power source and moved the light to face an empty wall. He placed the reel into the machine and waited for everyone to get comfortable.

Mustang pulled up a chair for Hawkeye to sit, assuming a standing position behind her. Rebecca kneeled beside Riza and the rest of the room stood in various places behind.

At the General’s signal, Furey flipped a switch and the projector roared to life. An image of a bear appeared on the wall, it stayed there for a few moments before flipping to a picture of a bowl. 

Riza narrowed her eyes in confusion. ‘A bear? Why is that familiar?’ She thought to herself. ‘I remember this somehow...? Wait-a bowl? What does this mean? Why do I remember this?’ She bit her lip as a tree appeared on the wall. ‘That’s right, a tree...a car comes next? No! A hat, then a car..’ The image of a hat flipped on the wall, then changed to a car. ‘That’s right. I remember all of this but why-I...I feel...woozy...almost like I’m falling...backward…’ 

As Hawkeye started to recite the pattern of images in her head, her vision grew blurry and she couldn’t stop the motion of her sinking backwards in the chair. Suddenly she felt her back hitting a body of water and slowly consuming her, unable to move her limbs as if bound by something. Slowly, she fell and descended deeper into nothing but darkness.


	25. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy heck! Chapter 25??? I honestly can't believe we have made it this far! Thank you guys so so much for sticking with me and there's still more excitement to come! As for this chapter, as I promised there are some more revealing details and the next few chapters will have some more explanations! I hope you enjoy! (Also TW for some violence/torture for the first half of the chapter :) )

Chapter 25: Memories

Riza struggled to move but found herself bound by invisible forces. A pressure grew in her chest and she looked around for a glimpse of anything amongst the vast expanse of darkness. ‘Where am I?’ A bright light shone from above, effectively blinding her for a few moments before it slowly evolved into a projection, flipping through the same images as before. She was strapped to a bed in this dark void, a sudden familiar sensation of being tied down washing over her.

Suddenly, the bindings that were trapping her released from around her limbs, allowing her to sit up. Riza stood from the bed and looked at herself, grasping at the grey uniform she was wearing. ‘No...no, not this again...I can’t be back...can I?’ A mumbling voice from behind made her whip around in the direction of a scene unfolding in the middle of the dark abyss. She walked towards it with caution, her boots making no sound as she stepped. 

General Boeller stood over a bed with a doctor standing next to him holding a syringe. Someone was laying strapped to the bed in front of them but was blocked from Hawkeye’s view, receiving the injection and fighting against the restraints. Riza strained to hear the conversation without standing too close. 

“Are you sure you want to keep trying this one?” The doctor asked.

“I’m sure. This one has potential, besides...she gets more cooperative every time. It won’t be long now.” Boeller said, his voice laced with excitement. “She may be able to resist now, but if you break her down enough...then she can learn to be commanded properly this time.”

The person laying on the bed ceased their struggle, as far as Riza could tell. Her heart raced and she wanted to run away but before she could move, General Boeller turned around to face her. His eyes locked on hers as a dangerous smile crept up his face. 

“Ah, 0398. I’m so glad you could join us.” He stepped aside to reveal the bed, allowing Riza to view herself strapped down and staring blankly at the ceiling as images flashed by. She felt her stomach drop and her mouth dry, running over and looking at herself closer. Riza watched her bound self slipping farther into a delirious state, her pupils dilating and growing dull. Riza tried and failed to loosen the straps on her other body, before resorting to shaking the shoulders frantically. 

“Wake up! You’ve got to wake up! Wake up!” Riza yelled at her other self, voice cracking in desperation. “Keep fighting them!” 

She slowly began to realize that there was no chance of getting her other self to wake up from this trance, as there was something inside her body that was keeping her down. It was whatever substance that was inside that syringe. Hawkeye remembered the feeling of the needle being pushed into her arm before these sessions. She shut her eyes tight and tried to remember what was in the syringe, knowing that it was some collection of ingredients that always made her foggy for long periods of time. ‘I have to find out what that liquid is!’ Hawkeye thought to herself. ‘I need to find out more about this-’

A strange noise turned her attention to the opposite side of the dark void. A blue light zapping caught her eye and she raced over to see it better. General Boeller once again stood by another version of herself strapped to a bed, this time wires connected to small circles attached to her skin. A doctor pulled a lever on a machine nearby, sending an electrical current throughout her body. Riza watched herself writhe in pain as the blue light surrounded her twitching body, tears sliding down her cheeks before slumping back down on the bed. General Boeller leaned over her other self, asking about an image placed before her, and two fingers weakly tapped in response. 

“Good...It feels better to just do what you’re told, doesn’t it?” He asked and Riza watched herself just shake her head and whimper quietly.

Hawkeye felt queasy at the sight. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders from behind, pulling her away from the scene before her and down into a tub of water. She fought to return above the surface but couldn’t find the strength, only being pulled up when she could feel her lungs about to give way. She was pulled upwards and into a sitting position, a pair of firm hands still tightly clasped on her shoulders. Coughing and sputtering, she struggled to regain her bearings in this void. The images were placed in front of her once more and General Boeller’s voice echoed in her ear.

“Recite the images you see, we’ve been over this 0398. Just comply.”

She shut her eyes tight and everything began to spin. In the midst of the endless turning, Riza flung herself out of the tub and rolled onto a nonexistent floor. She clutched her chest, desperate to breathe normally again. Looking up she saw yet another version of herself sitting in a chair, this time unbound, as General Boeller stood behind her. 

“Now, Soldier. What are you called?” He asked.

“0398.” 

Hawkeye watched herself reply with such monotone, and never had she seen herself look so deprived. She looked at herself sitting there, blonde hair tangled in knots and bags drooped under her dull eyes. Her skin was a ghastly grey and she looked ready to keel over at any moment. ‘Is this really me?’ Hawkeye asked herself.

“0398. Respond. What is the motive?”

“The New Order.”

“Who’s New Order?”

“Yours, Sir.”

Boeller smiled wide. “Correct. You are learning quickly. Now, 0398...where does your loyalty lie?”

Riza watched her other self flicker with resistance, refusing to answer. Boeller’s smile dropped as he leaned in close to her in the chair. 

“Where does your loyalty lie, 0398? I will not ask again.” 

Riza covered her mouth as she watched Boeller yank her other self’s hair and pull her head back, yelling with venom in his voice.

“You disobey me? Have you not had enough punishment?”

Riza’s other self bit her lip and remained quiet.

“Don’t think for one second that your ‘Central City Hero’ is going to come save you, because he won’t. You think he is going to galavant his way up here just for you? A lousy, pathetic excuse for a soldier who can’t even follow simple commands?” He shoved her head forward. “I am the one in control now. You serve me. You serve my new order because Mustang has abandoned you. You are nothing to him.” Boeller yanked her hair back again, and she began to sob. “You are nothing!”

Riza watched her other self blubbering, tears streaming down her face. “Y-You’re wrong! He wouldn’t…”

“You are no longer loyal to him. You are loyal to me. You are my soldier now.”

Her other self shook her head, desperately trying for defiance.

“You’re worthless.” Boeller shoved her head forward and walked around the chair, he then slapped her hard across the face.

Riza gasped, watching herself get struck across the face. She stood on wobbly legs and sprinted towards Boeller, a rage welling up inside. As she got close enough to hit him, Boeller turned swiftly around and plunged a knife into her side. A familiar pain there echoed on her body as she crumpled in agony. 

“I’m going to break you. Over and over again. I’m going to break you until you realize that the only way out is to follow my orders without question. Your name is 0398, you are being molded to serve the new order run by me. You are going to be a new breed of soldier. You can fight me, but eventually you will serve me. I’m going to make sure of that.” Boeller sneered before dissipating into the shadows of the abyss.

Everything began to spin again and once more, Riza was left in a silent void of darkness. Every moment from the last few months began to flood her brain, sparing no gory detail as she remembered every experience. She no longer wished to move, growing despondent as she curled up on the dark, wet floor. 

The group watched the images go by, having repeated several times already and an unsettling feeling bloomed inside the room. 

“What is this?” Edward finally broke the silence, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

The series of images stayed in a consistent pattern, flipping from one to the next. “It’s all the same objects but on repeat.” Falman noted.

What is it supposed to mean?” Armstrong scratched his chin in thought as the group struggled with the pattern's lack of answers. 

Rebecca kneeled by Riza’s chair, eyes watching the images on the wall with concern. “Is this familiar at all, Riza?”

Silence.

“Riza?” Rebecca tried again, looking over to her friend.

Hawkeye’s body was eerily still, her eyes were dull and her expression blank, just staring forward at the images on the wall.

“Riza?” Rebecca panicked, shaking her shoulder. Roy slid to kneel in front of his subordinate, waving a hand in front of her eyes before touching her face gently, but she remained in her trance-like state, her dilated pupils never wavering from the images.

“Hawkeye. Hawkeye!” Mustang shook her a bit to try and wake her from whatever state she was in, fear weighing heavy in his chest at the lack of response. “Hawkeye, answer me! Hey!”

“What’s wrong with her?” Havoc asked as the others began to scramble over to Riza with concern.

Alphonse looked from Riza to the images and then to the projector. “I think we need to turn it off!”

“Turn it off, Furey!” Mustang snapped. “Turn off the projector!”

Furey began to fumble with the machine, trying and failing to turn it off.

“Now! Turn it off, now!” Multiple people yelled and Furey, in a panic, ripped the cord from the projector, finally and effectively causing the machine to shudder and spark to a halt, the images disappearing from the wall.

The commotion settled as everyone watched Riza intently. Her pupils slowly returned to normal size and the haze began to lift, she inhaled sharply and clasped her hands over her mouth. Mustang and Rebecca stayed kneeling in front of her, their faces plastered with concern. 

“Hawkeye?” Mustang asked tentatively, seeing her eyes widen in a realization. 

She mumbled something behind her hands and Rebecca strained to hear her better. “What are you saying?”

“Trash can…” Riza mumbled and pointed one hand towards the nearest desk. Her friend immediately grabbed the small waste bin and placed it in front of Riza, who slid to her knees and buried her face in the bin. She couldn’t stop the contents of her stomach releasing as the wave of nausea hit quickly. 

“Everyone step back and give her some space!” Mustang ordered, making everyone retreat backwards. He gently rubbed Riza’s back as Rebecca helped hold her hair out of the way.

Riza slowly recovered and Rebecca gave her a tissue to wipe her face. Though the nausea was passing, she felt more weak and pain radiated from her side. Throwing up had not been kind on her still healing wounds. 

“Riza...what happened just now?” Rebecca asked gently, letting Hayate get closer so that he could check on his master, whining in concern. 

Hawkeye took a shuddering breath and as she pushed the waste bin away from her. Looking up at the two of them, she mumbled… “I remember…” before collapsing in Rebecca’s arms.


	26. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez, I may have lost track of some time lol this chapter and the next few are very information heavy so I had to take some time to map it all out ;) Anyways, here I am on my birthday, doing what I do best-eating pizza and writing fanfiction lol I hope you guys like this chapter! We are getting close to some biiiig reveals~ Thank you guys all so so so much for reading! Enjoy!

Chapter 26: Awakening

Hawkeye took a shuddering breath and she pushed the waste bin away from her. Looking up at the two of them, she mumbled… “I remember…” before collapsing in Rebecca’s arms.

Catalina held Riza comfortingly and looked at Mustang with shock. “What do we do?” 

“Havoc, help me move her.” Mustang, Havoc and Rebecca laid her down on the couch in Mustang’s office, making her more comfortable until she woke up fully. Hayate jumped onto the cushions and nestled himself in the gap of her arm, resting his head on her stomach protectively. 

“Good boy.” Roy said softly, petting Hayate’s head before briskly walking to his desk, Havoc and Rebecca stayed by Riza’s side. Mustang picked up the telephone and dialed a familiar number. 

“Is Dr.Knox in his office currently?....Yes, put him on. Tell him it’s urgent.”

Havoc watched his General in confusion. Once the phone call was over, Mustang turned and he asked. “Sir, why call Dr.Knox? Should we take her to a hospital?”

“We want to keep this under wraps. Knox is someone we trust, besides, I have some medical questions that he might be more willing to give me a straight answer.”

“It makes sense.” Rebecca checked Riza’s side and the back of her leg for any signs of tearing or bleeding through. “She seems okay now, just out of it for some reason.”

It didn’t take long for Dr. Knox to arrive and asses Riza, who was still mostly asleep on the couch. They explained the situation and Knox rubbed his chin as he looked over some of her scars and recent injuries, speaking in his usual gruff tone.

“I would monitor her for the time being. Her injuries are still healing so she really needs to take it easy. Her wound here on the side can easily tear and I imagine the gunshot wound is still causing some pain.”

Mustang listened carefully, then asked. “What about these circle marks? They’re a bit faded from when we first saw them but do you know what might’ve caused them?”

“I’m not familiar with them.” Knox examined a few of the faded marks. “It looks like burns of some kind, that would be my guess.”

“Is the throwing up and passing out normal?” Rebecca inquired. “Is it from her injuries or can it be from something else? I’ve seen her injured or in pain but I’ve never seen her react like that.”

“Well, from what you explained to me about the trancelike state she was in, I’d say it must have something to do with the repressed memories. Our brains can do that sometimes to protect ourselves from the trauma. You can have adverse reactions to remembering things that were traumatic.”

Havoc pulled a cigarette out from between his teeth. “Trauma is one thing, but do you know what may have caused her to go into a mental state like that? Her pupils dilated and dulled, it was strange…”

Knox scratched his head. “Again, I can’t be sure. It’s not really in my wheelhouse of knowledge but I’ll see if I can find any research about what you’re speaking of.” He looked at Hawkeye’s arm, noticing something in the crook, just above the wrist. “This looks like a mark from a syringe.”

“Could they have been injecting her with something?” Mustang leaned forward to examine the area Knox had pointed out.

“Seems plausible. From a medical standpoint, I’d say it was used fairly often.” Knox stood with a grunt. “Keep searching for anything that might give you a clue and I’ll see what I can find out from my medical journals.”

Mustang shook Dr. Knox’s hand before he left the room, thanking him for the help. Once he left, Roy, Rebecca, and Havoc stepped back out into the main office, letting Riza continue to rest on the couch.

“So? What did Knox say?” Breda asked quickly.

“Did he know anything about what we just saw?” Al inquired. 

The group began to discuss the issue at hand, trying to come up with conclusions and possible solutions. The time passed by slowly as they continued to mull about the evidence in the room.

Riza opened her eyes and saw Hayate laying with her on the couch in Mustang’s office. She sighed and pet him, relishing in the comfort of having him snuggle her. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out, but the voices of her team and the Elrics could still be heard in the main office.

“What am I gonna do, boy?” She spoke softly to him. Slowly lifting herself into a sitting position, she put her head in her hands. “I remember now. I remember everything.”

It took a few minutes for Hawkeye to gain enough confidence to stand, she needed to tell them now while everyone was still here and while they still had the evidence at their disposal. Hayate whined and pawed at her leg gently in concern. Riza looked down and smiled. 

“It’s alright, boy...it’s time.” She turned her attention to the closed doors and took a deep breath, taking it one step at a time and hobbled to the entryway. Slowly opening the doors, Riza appeared in the room, gripping the frame for support. 

“Riza!” Rebecca, who sat closest to the door, ran over to help her best friend.

Hawkeye smiled at her, trying to reassure everyone that she was okay. Mustang was suddenly at her side, his hand offered for support. 

“You shouldn’t be moving around like this.” He said firmly, as he and Catalina helped her to the sofa where everyone had gathered. Hayate followed diligently, guarding at her feet. 

“I know but...I needed to speak.” 

Havoc furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you sure?”

“You don’t need to push yourself.” Falman added. 

“No. I...I need to get this out. I’ve waited long enough.” 

Furey swallowed before continuing cautiously. “So...is it true then? What you said before you...passed out?”

“That you remember?” Edward asked.

Riza nodded and put a hand on her aching side. “There isn’t any time left to waste. We don’t...I don’t have that luxury anymore.”

“I agree.” A new voice sounded from the office doorway, causing everyone to turn towards the entryway to the hall. They all immediately recognized the man standing there.

“Fuhrer Grumman!”

Residential Neighborhood in Central City, 9:00pm  
Boeller sighed and swirled the whiskey glass in his hand, watching it move around the cup with precision. Looking around his home office, while happy to not be in jail, he despised being trapped here in his own home. With guards posted at every entrance and all the gates, he had no route for escape, not that he cared to go anywhere. There was too much work to be done in clearing his name and enacting revenge. 

Still though, he had to admit that he had gotten lucky considering his connections and that his story had been believed so far. It had kept him out of a prison cell at least, and there was still a chance that with the right people fighting for him, Boeller could persuade the situation in his favor. 

Boeller sunk into the office sofa and slowly reached a hand up to his nose, still bruised and now permanently crooked. A bubble of rage formed in his chest. ‘Those ungrateful rats…’ He thought to himself, the memory unfolding in his head. A woman in particular came to mind, making his fist clutch the whiskey glass in anger, threatening to shatter it. She had given him that deformation and tried to defy him at every turn. 

Boeller had learned quickly that Hawkeye was a force in her own right, which is why he enjoyed breaking her down, more so than any of the other soldiers before. Insead of the memory when her boot had collided with his face, he reflected on a different time, one where he had her cornered in his office. He quite enjoyed the fear in her eyes and the tremor in her breath as she fought to escape him. The times she cried out in pain during endless hours of experiments and the slow but sure way that she began to cave to his orders, made him smile.

And yet, she slipped away everytime. Hawkeye had survived the bullet that had killed Malcom because he had decided not to kill her. She had survived the cold and the torture and the battle too, she had survived the gunshot to the leg and the next bullet from his gun that never came. Somehow, Riza Hawkeye...0398, had survived his dagger and the blizzard. As furious as it made him, it only solidified his desire to control her. 

Now it was just her and him as the sole survivors, and of course, that babbling idiot...Patrick Dawes. ‘Such a pathetic man…’ Boeller chuckled. ‘...yet Dawes did make it all too easy to control him, easier than Hawkeye but less effective as a soldier.’ He pondered over the two survivors and began to plot his revenge when a knock at the office door distracted him.

“General Boeller, Sir. You have a visitor.” A guard said through the closed door. 

The door opened and a small, mousy sort of man walked in, wringing his hands nervously.

“Ah…Norris!” General Boeller smiled and stood from the sofa. “How kind of you to pay me a visit. A glass of whiskey?”

“O-Oh. No thank y-”

“Oh come on!” Boeller began to pour another glass for himself and added one for his guest. “Just like old times.”

Norris took a deep breath and accepted the glass, sitting down on the sofa. “Right...l-like old times.”

General Boeller remained standing, carefully watching the footsteps of the guard outside the door. Once the guard walked out of earshot, he smiled at the mousy man.

“It has been too long since we spoke last. I was wondering when I was going to hear from you, afterall, you waited quite a bit of time to seek me out once I returned from the North.”

Norris gulped. “Y-Yes...I’ve been meaning to visit, but I wanted to keep a low profile until this had calmed down a bit.”

“I understand.” He put a hand on Norris’s shoulder. “I am pleased that we can speak again, there is so much to catch up on.”

Norris looked at Boeller’s nose, it’s color hue a sickening purple and bent slightly to the side. “I may have something in the lab that can fix your-”

“No.” Boeller snapped before removing his hand and composing himself. “I want to keep it, for now, anyways. I want them to see what they did to me.”

“You mean, the soldiers at Fort Windsor?” Norris’s eyes widened. “So, you’re really going to take this to a trial then?”

“Yes. I am. And the two surviving soldiers will have plenty of scars to back up their claims, so I must keep mine as well.” The General began to pace the area in front of the desk at a relaxing speed. “It may be one of the few things in my favor.”

“Don’t you think taking them to a trial is too risky? If you didn’t fight it and maybe just play it off as ignorance, you may be able to get away with a simple charge of negligence. But if you go to trial they will most likely side with the two soldiers.”

Boeller held up a calm hand as he paced. “I’m well aware of that. But I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Norris questioned.

The General stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “And you’re going to help me.”

“How? I don’t want t get mixed up any further-”

“It’s no more involved than what you’ve already been doing.” Boeller smiled at Norris, making the man feel more unnerved than before. “I just need another case of the serum and a few more syringes.”

“Wh-what? You can’t be serious?” Norris jumped up from the sofa in alarm.

General Boeller raised an eyebrow, unamused by the man’s lack of cooperation. “Norris, it’s just one more for now. I lost everything at the Fort, and I know you’ve been so good to me these past few years...but I just need a little more in order to make this work.”  
“I-I...I don’t know, Aeron.” He shook his head and sat down again, rubbing the bridge of his nose in quiet exasperation. 

Boeller’s eye twitched in anger, wanting to hurl his glass of whiskey at Norris. Once again, he refrained from physical outbursts and instead opted for the coaxing method.

“Norris...This will work. I promise. They will see our intelligence, we just need more time.” He walked over to the sofa to sit next to his old friend. “And in order to get more time, I need to win this trial. I need to take those two down.”

“And how exactly do you plan on taking them down?” Norris asked.

“I told you I have a plan…” Boeller smiled. “I’m not done with them just yet.”


	27. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 27 y'all! I can't believe it but we actually only have a handful of chapters left! But don't worry there is still more excitement to come! Also thank you guys for the birthday wishes! <3 I hope you all enjoy this chapter~ Thanks so so much for reading! :)

Chapter 27: Revelations

“Fuhrer Grumman!”

Everyone stood quickly, saluting in respect. Riza attempted to stand but hissed in pain, clutching her thigh and Mustang dropped salute to help her back down to the sofa.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, there is no need for a salute from you, my dear. At ease, everyone.” Grumman waved a hand at them. “What sight to see this many familiar faces in one room.”

“Sir, you’ve returned early from your trip to Aurego.” Breda stated. 

The Fuhrer’s smile faltered. “Yes, well... there are some more pressing matters at hand here, I’m afraid. There are some things we need to discuss.”

“Yes, Sir. We are currently in the process of looking through all the evidence we have been given.” Mustang said.

Grumman nodded towards the entryway, signaling for it to be closed so that they could speak freely. Havoc and Armstrong quickly made their way to the doors and locked the office so as to not be disturbed. Once they were alone, Grumman resumed the conversation. “It seems that General Boeller is a dangerous man.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice…” Riza said dismally, putting a hand to the wound on her side.

“What happened at Fort Windsor, Lieutenant Hawkeye?”

The room stiffened as they looked at her, waiting for her response. She stared at Grumman for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Falman. Grab a paper and a pen. I want a physical record of my experience, signed and dated.”

Falman nodded and immediately set towards his most suited task, clicking the pen and ready to take note of everything Hawkeye was about to say. “Ready when you are, Hawk.”

Rebecca came and sat by her friend on the couch and Roy moved a chair to sit beside her. Furey pulled up a chair for the Fuhrer to sit and the rest readied themselves to listen closely, a feeling of uneasiness filling the air. 

Riza began the process, starting from the very beginning. She told them how they were loaded up in the trucks, never stopping at the train station and the arrival of the Fort. The showers, physical exam and the new uniforms to the stealing of their identifications and being locked in the barracks over night. 

Hawkeye pointed out various persons of interests, names of certain soldiers in league with the General as well as how his ranking system worked. She recalled her first encounter with Boeller and what he said to her, as well as the exhausting tasks under harsh conditions. Riza talked about the death of Malcom and how it was almost her that time. 

She continued with how they plotted an escape plan and her act of sneaking into the communications cabin only to be beaten by Officer Coleman and how General Boeller had been violent and even made advances towards her. Hawkeye mentioned how Keller had saved her from the office before talking about the soldier who was caught in the machine and how it started the first massacre. After the bullets had rained down, she spoke about their escape attempt on the icy ledge, fighting the officer in the kitchen, and how they crawled through the vents before being smoked out right into Boeller’s clutches. 

It was then that Hawkeye recalled the experiments, and while she wasn’t sure how all of it worked, she managed to explain what the procedures were like. The images, the syringes and the bathtubs of water to the machines that sent electrical shocks throughout your body and caused you to convulse until you cooperated. 

Riza did not leave out a single gory detail, making sure Falman was taking extensive notes. She described the haze and the fog in her mind, how the soldiers were left starving and sleepless with little fight. She then described the night that set the end in motion, how Lance had figured out that the cleaning powder was highly flammable and how her and Patrick had set them off to cause a riot. Hawkeye described the battle, the tanks rolling out and Patrick pulling her out of the way of a shell only to be injured himself. She told them how she had put Patrick in that crate and promised to come back for him before meeting up with Lance and the few soldiers left. Riza talked about shooting the cannon gun and the grenade that had killed the remaining men, all except for her. 

Everyone in the room listened quietly, brows furrowed in concern or shaking their heads at the cruelty that Hawkeye and the other soldiers at Fort Windsor had faced. Mustang seemed to have the hardest time, his arms folded to hide his clenching fists. Guilt settled in his chest and weighed heavily on him as he listened to every moment she had been through with her voice so calm and direct, hardly wavering in emotion. He knew Riza well enough to know that she was good at hiding fear or sorrow in her tone, but that didn’t stop him from noticing every little hitch and slight crack in her throat. 

“What happened after Lance gave you his jacket and gloves?” Falman asked. 

Riza continued, noting that she ignored the wound on her head, opting for an escape instead of rest. She talked about how close she had gotten to getting outside until being stopped by the shot to her thigh. General Boeller had somehow survived and had the gun pointed at her, by some miracle there were no bullets left when he pulled the trigger again and she climbed the debris as quickly as she could. She recalled how Boeller had followed her up, desperate to stop her and they wrestled until he plunged the dagger into her side. By a stroke of luck she managed to get a holding and slip her leg free, slamming her boot as hard as she could into his face and once out of his grasp she moved on and didn’t look back. 

The next part of her story came the discovery of the soldiers in the communications base, mysteriously dead and the wires having been cut. She had tried to contact the other Forts and Command Centers but failed. Riza told them how she figured out the route to Fort Briggs and why she decided to risk going there instead.

“I knew I could ask General Armstrong for help. I was not sure who I would be met with at the Northern Command Center. I had reason to believe he had connections there.” 

“That is a possibility, seeing as how he somehow managed to pass all inspections despite such grueling conditions and countless atrocities.” Fuhrer Grumman sighed and rubbed his chin in thought.

“I can’t believe that General Boeller was able to get away with all of that.” Furey shuddered.

Roy looked visibly pale and upset, his arms still crossed but fingers gripping tightly at his sleeves in anger. “He won’t be getting away with it for long. He will be brought to justice.”

“Just as long as it’s not a trial by flames, Mustang.” Edward eyed him warily. He knew Mustang to be normally even tempered and even stoic in the face of enemies, but he had his weaknesses. Ed had not forgotten what had happened in the tunnels under Central during the Promised Day. 

Roy remained silent after Ed’s comment, trying to compose himself. Alphonse gave Ed a knowing look and Hawkeye bit her lip anxiously.

Fuhrer Grumman resumed the conversation quickly. “We’ll have to find out more about Boeller’s motive and who he has allied with. If it involves an inner working of people, they must be dealt with immediately.”

“Do you think any of the higher-ups may be involved?” Havoc asked.

“I did my best to sort out those who were in league with King Bradley and the homunculi, though that doesn’t mean corruption isn’t constantly lurking in the shadows.” 

A knock on the office door silenced the conversation abruptly. Armstrong walked over to open one of the doors slightly, but opened it fully upon seeing who it was. 

“Oh, Doctor Knox!” Armstrong’s voice still bellowed even in a hushed tone. “Back so soon?”

Mustang stood as Knox walked in and Armstrong shut the door behind him. “Is everything alright?”

“I have some information for you, something very important about this situation.” He said in his grizzled tone. “When I examined Hawkeye’s burns I thought they were unusual and yet somehow familiar, I knew I had seen them before but it took me a second to realize from where.”

Riza looked at her arms, the circle-like burns still etched on her skin. “They are from a machine, one that sends electrical shocks through wires and connects to the skin by various small patches.”

“Yes, I am aware of that now.” Knox continued. “I was trying to remember where I had seen that before and so I did some digging in the archives. I found out what the machine was but I still couldn’t place where I had learned about it. That’s when I ran into a crazy book lady.”

“Let me guess.” Alphonse smirked. “Was her name Sheska?” 

“You got it. I asked her if she knew any books or articles related to this machine and unfortunately anything to do with it was burned up along with the fifth laboratory…”

Breda groaned. “Please tell us you didn’t come here to inform us that the only lead you had was burned up in Lab 5.”

“But Sheska has an impeccable memory!” Alphonse exclaimed.

Ed added to his brother’s statement. “She can remember everything she’s ever read!”

“Exactly.” Knox adjusted his glasses. “She copied down everything for me and you’re not going to believe what I found.” 

The room grew quiet in anticipation as they stared at the doctor. He looked over at Hawkeye, swallowing uncomfortably before looking away, knowing this was going to hit her the hardest. Knox pulled out a file folder from the inside of his coat pocket, opening it up to the pages that Sheska had written for him. 

“I’ll read it out. According to that bookworm lady, this is an exact word for word recreation of a restricted access file in the archives. This is a detailed report of a lab research incident that resulted in multiple counts of cruelty, injuries and one fatality that shut down the entire project.”

Knox looked up at them for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. “This report is from approximately ten years ago when a group was approved to conduct a series of research into the improvement of military training with a focus on behavioral analysis. It was spearheaded by a Colonel and a small group of doctors. It started out as a simple experiment as they would bring in soldiers, study them and rank them based on overall ability. Over time, the tests became harder and they began to study the effects of soldier’s mental states under this type of stress. After a few months, this project began to grow problematic as the Colonel in charge recreated a ranking system and attempted to form a code system for his soldiers. In many instances this led to cruel treatment, both physical and mental, and the soldiers began to complain about the use of unethical methods. It caught the attention of some of the senior staff, who were intrigued by the possibilities, however the project was quickly shut down after a soldier was electrocuted by a machine used to deliver shocks throughout the nervous system. The government quickly dismantled the project, covered up the incident and positioned the ones in charge elsewhere. All files were archived in the restricted section under ‘unethical methods’ due to its main philosophy-the creation of the perfect soldier by any means necessary.”

Riza felt her throat tighten and bit her lip, trying to absorb the wave of information coming at her. A single question poised itself on the tip of her tongue but her stomach began to churn, for she already knew the answer.

“Who was the Colonel in charge?” Havoc asked.

Knox looked up from the file. “Colonel Aeron Boeller.”

“That bastard…” Rebecca folded her arms tightly, visibly upset.

The room let out a sigh of disdain, grumbling various mutterings about corrupt governments and how terrible Boeller’s actions were.

“How horrible...but how was he not discharged from the military?” Furey questioned.

Falman shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the only time something like that has slipped under the radar.”

“What happened to Boeller after the project? You’re saying he was just...relocated? That’s it?” Ed asked in a bewildered tone. 

Knox flipped another page in the file. “It says here that he was relocated to a post at the Northern Command Center before later being transferred to a branch in the West. That’s when he slowly and quietly rose through the ranks to the status of General.”

“And he somehow wormed his way into leading the charge at the new Fort, but why there and not somewhere else, I wonder.” Grumman scratched his chin in thought.

“It’s simple.” Riza said evenly, despite her paling complexion. Everything began to click in her mind. “It worked perfectly, at least in theory.”

“What do you mean, Riza?” Rebecca asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“You said he was transferred to the North first, right?” She looked at Knox who nodded in confirmation. “It was there that he realized how isolated it was, but of course the Northern Command Center was too much under a watchful eye. He laid low for a couple years before seizing the opportunity he saw.”

“So, you’re saying that he used the secludedness of Fort Windsor as a new version of his old project?” Breda inquired.

“Exactly.” Riza said. “He did everything he could to keep us from contacting the outside world, he stole our identifications, our uniforms and rankings, anything to keep us from being recognized by anyone on the outside. He kept us tired, and weak, and scared because we were easier to control that way. He must’ve wanted to prove that he was right about his idea... that a perfect soldier was possible, and he’d do anything for it to be right.”

“But why was he building tanks and ammunition? Was he planning to override the government?” Grumman asked. 

“My guess is that he wanted it as leverage and as a back up plan in case his actions were deemed unethical again.” Mustang added.

“And it’s why he wanted us to pledge our loyalty to him and not Amestris.” Riza continued. “He wasn’t doing it for his country anymore, this time it was for him. This time it was personal.”

Knox closed the file and handed it to the Fuhrer. “I should be going now but I hope this has helped in some way…”

Mustang stood and shook the Doctor’s hand. “Thank you. It’s just what we needed to know.”

“Don’t act giddy now. A man like this is dangerous, just because you have all this evidence doesn’t mean he doesn’t have something up his sleeve.” Knox said gruffly before saying his goodbyes and shutting the office door behind him. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he was plotting something.” Armstrong said, looking at Riza. “If it’s a trial he wants, then it’s a trial he’ll get. But don’t you worry Lieutenant Hawkeye! I have just the person to help you out and I shall call him post haste!”

Hawkeye gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Major.”

“For now,” Grumman began. “It’s getting late and I think you’ve had enough for one day. I think it best that you go home to rest, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely.” Mustang assured the Fuhrer.

Havoc smirked. “Not that Hawkeye can’t kick ass if she needed to, but we’ll make sure her apartment stays safe and sound.” 

Riza shook her head. “I hate to admit it, but in this state I’m not sure how well I’d fare in combat. I’ll take all the help I can get right now.”

“Don’t worry.” Rebecca gave Riza a playful nudge. “You’ll be up again and kicking ass in no time.”

The tension of the room was beginning to lift and everyone disbanded for the evening, agreeing to return tomorrow to go through more evidence and start preparations for whatever was about to happen.

Rebecca and Mustang walked close to Hawkeye, who insisted on walking without either of their arms for support as they made their way through the halls of Central Command. Team Mustang followed and escorted her home in cars, checking the perimeter of her apartment before heading home for the night and leaving Rebecca, Mustang and Hawkeye alone.

After helping Riza change into a set of more comfortable clothing, Rebecca walked with her to the sofa while Mustang went about making tea in the kitchen for them.

Rebecca quirked an eyebrow as she watched the General make himself so easily at home in her best friend’s apartment, even knowing where all the cups were and playing with Hayate as he boiled the water. ‘Interesting…’ She thought to herself before turning back to the blonde woman.

“Thank you, Rebecca. For everything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…” Hawkeye felt her chest tighten and her eyes started to sting. “...but thank you for taking care of Hayate.”

Rebecca’s eyes began to water and her voice cracked a little, desperately trying to compose herself. “Oh you stop that, you know I’d do anything for you I mean, what are best friends for? Besides, Hayate is so well behaved and you know he is quite the stud magnet! Eligible bachelors were coming up to me left and right, saying ‘how cute!’ and I can’t lie, I was absolutely flattered!”

Mustang snickered in the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “I think they were talking about the dog, Lieutenant Catalina…”

Rebecca shot the General a glare. “And just what are YOU still doing here, huh?”

“I’m doing my official duty in making sure this apartment stays safe.” He said nonchalantly as he sipped his mug of tea before bringing one over for Hawkeye. 

Catalina huffed before an idea lit up inside her head, turning to her friend with a mischievous grin. “Well...I suppose I’d better get going...and leave you two...to it.” 

Riza narrowed her eyes at her best friend, mouthing ‘I will kill you’ only to watch Rebecca chuckle, grabbing her purse and walking to the door. “I’ll see you two tomorrow!” 

Once she had left, Mustang came to sit on the sofa with Riza and let Hayate snuggle up between them. It was quiet for a few moments, peaceful and calm.

“Are you worried?” He asked cautiously after a while.

Hawkeye sighed and pet her pup’s head. “Of course...although, I’m not sure what I should be more worried about. I mean, I’ve faced him so many times and yet, what if the next time...what if I don’t…” She paused, unable to say the rest of her statement. 

Roy softened, he didn’t need her to finish speaking to know what she was trying to say. The very thought of it ate him up inside. “You did so much on your own...but you’re not alone in this. It won’t be like the last time.”

“You think so?” She wondered quietly.

“Have I ever been wrong?”

Riza smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want me to answer that, Sir?”

They both laughed and Riza was feeling much better now, content to know that she had so much support but mostly relishing in the knowledge that Mustang really never would let anything happen to her. He had proven that, time and time again.

The two continued to talk quietly until their tea had run out and they had closed their eyes, falling asleep on the sofa until the soft rays of a sunrise poked through the curtains.


	28. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you guys, we are really building up to something! Chapter 28? Here it is! Thank you all so so much for reading and commenting, y'all are the best! I hope you enjoy this chapter, lemme know whatcha think! (Also since we are nearing the homestretch for this fic, if I decided to write more royai fullmetal alchemist fics...would y'all read them? lol let me know in the comments because I have a couple of ideas...!)

Chapter 28: Preparations

Hawkeye took a deep breath as she put on her coat, still having to wear civilian clothes until the trial was over and then everything would go back to normal, at least, she hoped it would. She quickly brushed her hair and flattened her trouser pants before turning to the mirror. Her eyes glided over every mark that still healed on her face. The wound on her forehead was healed enough to escape a bandage but still needed some care-that one was going to scar. The smaller scrapes and bruises were mostly faded, seemingly far away just like the sensation of Fort Windsor itself seemed too. She slowly traced the dull line that ran across her throat, a memory that felt even further away as she thought back to a time in the tunnels beneath Central. 

A knock at the door whisked her away from her thoughts. Mustang stood in the entryway of her bedroom, head tilted in concern. 

“Are you alright? I knocked a few times but you didn’t answer so I let myself in.”

“What?” Riza blinked and shook her head. “S-Sorry...I didn’t hear it. I must’ve been lost in thought.”

“It’s alright, really.” Mustang reassured her before noticing her hand still stopped at her throat, the memory made him swallow harder than usual, an unending sorry still lodged at the back of his tongue. “You sure you’re alright?”

Riza nodded and looked back to the mirror. “I am covered in scars, have been for a long time. They just seem to be more outspoken today.” 

It was an odd statement, but Roy didn’t have to ask what it meant. He knew. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to go, take your time.”

She smiled and turned towards him. “I’m ready.”

The two gave Hayate one last pat on the head before heading out of the apartment. It had been a few days since that long day at Central Command. Roy spent the night once or twice, but showed up even on the other days, from helping her clean the apartment to grocery shopping and making sure she ate, he had been a huge help. Hayate didn’t mind getting a couple of good walks in with Roy, slowly becoming accustomed to his everyday presence.

After grabbing their usual coffee, they made their way to Central Command into the Eastern Courtyard where they would be meeting with Major Armstrong and a lawyer that he had highly recommended. 

The courtyard was mostly empty, littered with a few people scattered about in the crisp morning air. Mustang walked close beside Hawkeye, eyes taking in the scene carefully as she had always done for him. 

“It looks like we are a bit early, we can wait by the tree over there.” He said.

She looked at the tree as they approached and noticed someone was standing under it with his back turned to them. ‘He seems familiar somehow…’ Riza concluded in her mind. ‘But...how so?’

As they got closer the man turned around, adjusting his still cracked spectacles and his eyes widened when he saw Hawkeye. 

Riza stopped in her tracks, halting so suddenly it made Mustang tense as if he was ready to catch her if she fell. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized him.

“Patrick?”

Patrick gave her a happy yet timid smile, his voice hoarse. “H-Hey kid…” 

It took her a beat to respond, unsure of how to broach this greeting. She had experienced so many post war conversations, they never got less awkward. Her eyes stung with tears but she pushed them back, instead relying on her relief to actually see him alive and alright. 

“Patrick...I-I’m so happy to see you...to see you okay..”

“Same to you...I was worried when they hadn’t found you but was so relieved when Lieutenant Havoc called to tell me the news that you were found.” Patrick turned to Mustang, shaking hands with him. “It’s good to see you again, Sir.”

“Likewise, Sergeant Dawes. I see you’re holding up so far.”

“Doing the best I can.” Patrick smiled more. “It’s been difficult trying to process everything that happened…” He looked back to Hawkeye, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. “It’s been easier being able to be with my family. I have you to thank for that, you know.”

Riza shook her head, brows furrowing nervously. “I’m...I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you. I tried to but-”

“Oh don’t worry about that, afterall I heard about what had happened to you and what you did to get to Briggs. You still saved my life.”

“I’m just happy to see that you were reunited with your family.” She smiled at him. 

“Me too.” Patrick nodded, pausing for a moment. “I know this is...kinda direct but...how are you?”

Riza sighed and placed a hand instinctively over her side. “My wounds are still sore, but they are healing.”

“Well, a stab wound and a gunshot are pretty intense, let alone everything else before them…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I can’t believe you walked through a blizzard like that...Lance would be impressed…”

Lance. Christoff. Malcolm. Names that had been mentioned but were hardly touched by Riza, afraid to recall them when not speaking about the incidents at Fort Windsor. Hearing any of their names brought back a flood of memories for both her and Patrick. 

“Yeah...he would…” She replied.

The words were on both of their tongues. ‘I wish we could have saved them…’ resonated between them, yet remained unspoken.

Mustang quietly watched the two of them converse, simply listening and feeling for the both of them as they spoke. He was the first to notice Major Armstrong enter the courtyard, escorting a man in a military dress suit or in other words, a military lawyer carrying a briefcase.

“Good morning!” The Major boomed, his voice echoing across the courtyard. He stopped and saluted the General then turned and introduced himself to Patrick. 

The lawyer was a bit on the younger side, most likely a similar age to Roy Mustang, but the air about him was stiff and mature. He nodded at Hawkeye, shaking her hand and then Patrick’s.

“Good morning. You can call me Warren, first I’d like to apologize for what you’ve been through. From what I have been informed on so far, you two have experienced something quite traumatic and riddled with injustice, which is why I am here to represent the both of you.” His face was stoic but still genuine all the same, his tone was clear and direct. “If you’d like to step into one of the empty office spaces, we can discuss the matters of the trial at hand.”

Hawkeye turned to Mustang who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be heading up to my office with the others, but I’ll come back to get you after.” She nodded and followed Warren inside, settling in a room with one table and a few chairs. 

“Can I get you two water or anything before we get started?” Warren asked.

Riza and Patrick shook their heads. Armstrong saluted them before closing the office door and returning to his duties. Warren pulled out his briefcase, setting up stacks of files, a pad of paper, and a pen. 

“Alright then, let’s get started. Have either of you two experienced a military trial before?”

“No, Sir.” Patrick stated, followed in suit by Hawkeye.

Warren continued. “That’s not a problem. I’ll explain how these proceedings will work and then we will get down to each of your stories. We will also go over questions they may ask and how to answer the unexpected ones they throw at you.” He watched his two clients shift slightly in their chairs, sensing their nervous energy. “Now I won’t lie to you, these trials can be difficult if you don’t know who you are dealing with. I know for a fact that General Boeller has hired one of the best lawyers in Amestris, and I’ll warn you that he is absolutely ruthless. You can’t let your guard down.” He folded his hands on the table with a sigh. “I know the two of you have been battling for a long time, but the war isn’t over yet.”

“I’m ready.” Riza said, more to herself than anyone else. She looked over at Patrick who adjusted his glasses and nodded.

“Then let us begin.” Warren smiled. “First the order of proceedings. Sergeant Patrick Dawes, you will take the stand first and I will start the questions. After that, you will be questioned by the Boeller’s lawyer. Lieutenant Hawkeye, you will take the stand next, same procedure. After that we will break for some time, then Boeller will take the stand. He will be questioned by his lawyer, then be questioned by me. The jury will discuss and if justice is to be served, Boeller will be found guilty and sentenced. Any questions so far?”

The three moved on to discuss their stories and experiences, going over the possible questions and how to avoid being caught off guard. Warren described all the possible tactics that Boeller’s lawyer could use against them and what to watch out for.

“The other side will attack you viciously, bringing up anything and everything from your current career and your past in some way to discredit you. They will use anything they deem valuable to their defense and they will try to make Boeller appear to be a saint. We are going to do our best to make the jury understand that Boeller is in no way innocent.”

Patrick and Riza absorbed as much as they could, taking in everything the lawyer said. After many hours of discussing everything to do with the trial, from the evidence down to the miniscule details of it all, they felt ready.

Warren stood and shook their hands. “It has been a pleasure to serve and defend you so far, and I will keep you posted if we need to meet again. Otherwise I will see you both at the military courts.”

“Thank you.” Riza gave him a small smile.

Patrick thanked him before asking, “Where did we even find you?”

Warren smiled and something familiar clicked in Hawkeye’s brain. Their lawyer gave a wink, illuminating a sparkle in his eye. “Just a good friend of the Armstrong Family, hoping to serve them as my father did...for generations.” 

Riza smiled wider and shook her head. ‘The Armstrong’s really do have someone in every occupation.’ She thought to herself and chuckled as Patrick looked confused.

Warren left swiftly, briefcase in hand as Patrick and Hawkeye headed out of the office. Riza didn’t have to look for long to see Mustang leaning against the wall of the hallway, smiling when he saw her. Armstrong stood next to him, positively beaming.

“How did it go?” Roy asked.

“It went well.” Riza replied, a reassurance in her voice.

Armstrong chuckled heartily. “Warren is pretty good, isn’t he? He’s been with my family for years, as was his father before him, for generations in fact!”

Patrick grinned a little. “Yeah...I think we might’ve guessed.”

Mustang turned back to his lieutenant. “Would you like to go upstairs to the office, or go home?”

“Home please, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He smiled warmly then turned to Patrick. “Major Armstrong has volunteered to escort you back to your room at the hotel.”

Patrick adjusted his glasses again and shifted his weight on the cane so he could shake Mustang’s hand. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the arrangements you’ve made for me. It has made it a lot easier for me.”

Roy nodded. “And thank you for everything you did in that Fort. Thank you for looking out for my Lieutenant.”

The group parted ways, Hawkeye and Mustang made their way back to her apartment settling in with dinner for the evening.

Residential Neighborhood in Central City, 9:00pm  
The sound of footsteps came down the staircase, with every thud of the shoe and creak of the boards, Norris felt more on edge. He wiped his brow and steadied his hands on the table, not ready to face his old friend. 

“Ah, Norris. Is it ready yet? We’ll need it for the trial, it’s within days, you know.” Boeller’s voice startled the mousy man, even though he knew the General had been approaching. 

“U-Uh...Yes, Sir. Almost finished…”

“Quit dallying. We don’t have any time for error so it must be done the first time, we don’t get any second chances.” His tone had sunk from it’s usual calm to a more frustrated one. “How is the work for the backup plan going?”

Norris’s voice quivered slightly. “I-It’s...It’s still got a few bugs-”

“It has to be ready by the day of the trial.”

“I know but-”

“Norris!” Boeller yelled and grabbed the man by his white coat. “It has to be ready by then, or you will be going to jail with me.” He leaned in close to Norris’ face, his voice low and dark. “Do I make myself clear?”

Norris gulped. “Y-Yes...Sir...p-please...it’s just, this is more involved than what you had described. You said you only needed the product you didn’t say I would have to-”

Boeller stopped him quickly. “This is war! We are fighting for the greater good here! If I get taken down then you get taken down with me.” He released the man by shoving him back until he hit the table unceremoniously. “Keep working and don’t stop until it’s done!”

Norris clutched the table in fear as he watched the General ascend the basement stairs and back into the main house. He sighed before slowly turning back to his work, whispering quietly to himself. “...those poor soldiers…”

1 Week Later, Central Command Center  
Riza sat on the office sofa and listened carefully to the others talk, a nervous twinge in her stomach. Tomorrow was the day. The Trial. Everything had been leading up to this, and after tomorrow Boeller would be in jail. ‘He has to be found guilty…’ She thought to herself. ‘There’s no way that they could find him innocent, right?’ Though she was so sure of his crimes, Riza had come to learn that not everything in this world was fair or swayed by justice.

The Elrics had returned home but Rebecca extended her stay, temporarily transferring to Mustang’s unit as they juggled both the upcoming trial and their usual duties. Mustang and the team, Rebecca, and the Fuhrer would be there with her, observing the trial. She wasn’t sure if their presence would be more relieving or more nerve-wracking, she would have to wait and see. 

“So, we meet out front in the morning and from there we will escort Hawkeye and Dawes into the courtroom.” Mustang listed off instructions for the morning of and what to be looking out for. 

Rebecca scooted closer to Riza on the sofa. “You okay?”

“Yeah...just worried.”

“This is gonna work, Hawk.” Havoc said.

“It has to.” She replied. “It has to because I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t.”

“Whatever happens in there, you’ll always have us to back you up.” Mustang said. 

“Just go in and do your best, Lieutenant.” Furey added.

“If all else fails, we’ll be there.” Breda gave her a thumbs up. 

Falman continued. “We’ll continue to find another way to bring him down.”

“We will get through this, together.” Mustang finished. 

Hawkeye looked around at all of their faces, a fire being relit inside of her. These were the reasons she fought so hard, this is what she fought to come home too. Before she could speak, there was a knock at the office door. 

Major Armstrong and Fuhrer Grumman strolled in, quickly easing their salutes. 

“Ah, looks like we are nearly ready for tomorrow, eh?” Grumman chuckled. “Well Lieutenant, it looks like you have a special visitor.” 

“A VERY SPECIAL VISITOR INDEED!” Armstrong announced proudly.

Riza tilted her head slightly in confusion, sharing the expression with most in the room. ‘Who would be visiting me at a time like this?’ She wondered. 

General Olivier Armstrong and Major Miles walked into the office, taking in the sight of the room. She looked around pointedly at the piles of papers and stacks of files everywhere. “Hmph. I had forgotten how tacky Central Command was, but it sure is fitting for you General Mustang.”

“Ah, General Armstrong...long time no see.” Roy said flatly.

“Not long enough.” She retorted quickly.

Riza noticed Rebecca looking starry eyed at General Armstrong, almost giddy at being able to salute one of her idols. Hawkeye smiled and shook her head before turning her attention to the new visitor. 

“So, what brings you here, General?

Olivier turned to Hawkeye, face stoic. “I’ve come to support you in this trial. Miles and myself wanted to make sure we would be there to witness General Boeller’s downfall.”

“I see. Well...thank you, for the support.” 

For one of the first and maybe only times Hawkeye had ever seen it, General Armstrong grinned. “Tomorrow you will bring him down. I know you will. Are you ready to bring down another corrupt patriarch?” 

Riza couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m ready.”


	29. Trial Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here it is! We have finally reached the trial! And it is way longer than I thought so I actually had to divide it into two! But it is still a lengthy chapter, I promise! I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think! Also, as I mentioned in my last note, I am considering putting out a few more royai fics!
> 
> A Pirate AU and a Victorian/Edwardian style romance drama. Let me know if you have a preference on which one you'd like to see first in the comments! Thank you guys for reading, y'all are the best! <3

Chapter 29: Trial Part 1

Riza concentrated on the sound of her low heeled shoes on the pavement as they approached the military courts. She was surprised that her nerves were not more apparent, though it was never the unknown that scared her but rather the knowing that something was coming. She felt calmer, so long as Mustang walked beside her. He had stayed in her apartment the night before to make sure she got enough rest for today. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” She replied quickly. Too quickly. He glanced at her before putting a hand on her upper back gently, continuing to walk without saying anything further. She was grateful for that.

They rounded the block and began to make their way to the doors of the military courthouse. Standing by the gate to escort them was Falman, Breda and Furey. On the steps outside the doors, waiting for them, was General Armstrong and the Major, Major Miles, Rebecca and Havoc finishing up his cigarette. 

The group convened together and Rebecca went up to Riza, looping an arm through hers. “It’s almost time.”

Hawkeye nodded and gently squeezed Rebecca’s arm in return, accepting the comfort from her. The group gave her last minute reassurances before heading through the large doors to a main room outside of the courtroom. Different officers and other court officials were milling about the room, flowing in and out of the building. Riza inwardly grimaced at the amount of people and how she would have to speak in front of everyone. 

Patrick caught her eye from across the room and began to walk over, a smaller woman right behind him. He smiled sadly as he patted her shoulder. “Hey Hawkeye…”

“Hey…” She greeted him before turning her attention to the woman beside him, seeing her small features and soft appearance. Riza smiled at her, knowing exactly who she was. 

Patrick gestured to the woman. “This is my wife, Lena. She has been so excited to meet you.”

Riza shook her hand before suddenly being embraced by the woman. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.” Lena released the hug to look at Riza’s face, her eyes glassy and welling with tears. “You don’t know what you’ve done for my family, I could never thank you enough, my dear.”

Hawkeye was taken aback at first but quickly matched the older woman’s gratitude. “He was incredibly brave, and he did his best to make things at the Fort better. He couldn’t wait to return home.” 

The three spoke for a few minutes before Mustang approached Riza, signaling that it was time to get seated in the courtroom. Riza smoothed her skirt and straightened her button up shirt for the last time before letting Mustang escort her. Havoc, Furey and Falamn posted themselves at the entrances keeping an eye on everything. 

“Are you ready?” Roy asked her in the entryway to the courtroom. 

She looked at him and nodded. “There’s no going back now.”

Riza turned and scanned the room, taking in the sight. The room was filled with rows of seats on both sides, allowing one walking space down the center. At the far end of the room were two tables where the lawyers would sit and the raised stage where the judge would sit, and the lower stage where she, Patrick and Boeller would sit and answer questions, right beside the judge.

Her eyes stopped suddenly on the subject of focus that she had been looking for. There he was, sitting at the table with his lawyer with his back turned to her, but she knew it was him. Boeller turned slightly to his lawyer and she could see the now crooked profile of his face. Memories began to seep into her head but she pushed them back. Seeing Boeller here was the first time she had been in the same room as him since she had slammed her boot into his face and sent him rolling down the hill of debris. 

Roy watched Riza stiffen and her eyes grow wide, feeling wary of what she might do next. He could see the fear in her face and it was as if he could feel it radiating off of her. Slowly, his hand reached out to touch her, to bring her back to reality when her expression shifted suddenly. Hawkeye’s eyes narrowed and her fists clenched, inhaling a deep breath through her nose. Upon the exhale, an air of determination formed around her and the two walked to their seats in the row behind the lawyer’s table on their side. Boeller sat on the opposite side and neither dared to look at each other. 

As more people filed inside to take their seats, Riza noticed Patrick hadn’t come into the courtroom yet. An unsettling feeling came over her, wondering what could be taking so long. Rebecca sat next to her and Mustang as Havoc, Furey, Falman, and Breda joined them once more to sit in the row behind. General Armstrong, Major Miles and Major Armstrong sat near Mustang, all allowing Hawkeye the end seat so that it would be easy to get up when her time to speak came. 

After a few moments of restlessness, Patrick entered the courtroom and she sighed in relief. He walked down the rows, having taken so long that he and his wife had to take two empty seats in the row across from her. Patrick adjusted his glasses, his eyes were red underneath and while one hand held onto his wife, the other shook nervously. He had been crying. Riza understood his nervousness, and now he had to sit a row behind Boeller’s backside.

The courtroom began to settle and Warren checked in on Patrick and then on Hawkeye one last time before the officer judge entered the room. The judge took his place on the raised stage followed by Fuhrer Grumman who took a seat off to the side of the room. Every officer stood and saluted the two men until the judge motioned a hand for everyone to sit and cease conversation. 

And so it began.

“I’d like to start off these proceedings by thanking everyone for their attendance and to address the reality of the situation at present. It is an unusual and unprecedented case which has resulted in many casualties, specifically those of military soldiers. Out of over a hundred soldiers, only three remain. I plan to adhere to the truth and to provide justice and fairness in this trial. I am Officer Judge Mattais, and I will be overseeing these proceedings.” The judge shifted through a few papers to organize his podium before looking at the lawyers. “Lawyers you may proceed with opening statements. Warren, you may begin.”

Warren stood and walked around the table to take the spot in front of the judge, turning to look at the jury. “My fellow officers. It is an honor to be speaking in front of you on this matter. However, it is also a tragedy to do so, for the absurd and horrific treatment of soldiers at Fort Windsor can only attest to what we fear the most. Suffering, loss, and pain are all words that too easily correlate with Fort Windsor and those who were in charge of it’s grim ending. From it’s appalling intensive labor and conditions to it’s gruesome and unethical methods of torture and abuse. All of this and it comes down to only three survivors, two soldiers whose worlds will never be the same again, and one man who is responsible for the entire tragedy. What we will discuss here today, the evidence, the testimonies, will not only be hard to bear witness to, but will also prove that justice in this case will prevail. Thank you.” He bowed his head to the jury and then to the judge in respect before taking his seat at the table once more.

Boeller’s lawyer, William Strode, smirked as he stood. He was a man similar to Boeller’s age and the smug air around him was overwhelming. His eyes were piercing as if stalking prey, glancing at Warren with a hint of superiority as he took the stance to make his opening statement. 

“Officers of the court, it is with great privilege to be serving you and a fine man such as General Boeller. You have been told that this was a tragedy and that is only half of a correct statement, you see, it would be better suited to call this an unnecessary and completely avoidable tragedy. Had it not been for the violent actions of soldiers wishing to rebel, desperate for anarchy and chaos, many lives could have been spared. As it was mentioned by my colleague moments ago, the stories and evidence might be hard to stomach but it must be heard for justice to prevail.   
Every side must be given a fair chance, and you may be surprised at the outcome. Thank you.”

Strode finished his statement, his voice dark and slick, spilling out of his mouth like oil. He flashes a grin at Warren before taking his seat at his table.

Judge Mattais cleared his throat. “Warren, if you would begin, please call your first witness.”

Warren stood and spoke clearly. “I call Sergeant Patrick Dawes to the stand.”

Patrick took a deep, nervous breath and gave his wife’s hand one last squeeze before standing. As he passed Riza, he gave her a nod and walked up to sit on the raised stage, using a crutch to get there. His leg was still healing from it’s break, and their lawyer said it was wise to show the jury how injured he was. It was more physical evidence. 

Warren walked to the center, giving Patrick a reassuring smile. “Sergeant Dawes, can you please tell the court when you first received the transfer that sent you to Fort Windsor?”

Patrick recalled how he had been transferred and what his first day at the fort was like. Following instructed questions given by his lawyer, he described the conditions, specific events and the countless abuses he had suffered. Patrick described the experiments, as much as he could remember and told the story of the final battle in great detail. He never once dared to look at Boeller as he spoke, too terrified to even try.

After a time, Warren thanked Patrick and asked for no further questions. Strode, Boeller’s lawyer, rose from his chair and made his way to the center to question Dawes. 

“Sergeant Dawes, I’d like to recount some of your story from earlier, if I may? Specifically, I’m going to reference the account of your escape attempt. Is it true that this plot to desert your post was a premeditated one?”

Patrick blinked for a beat before stuttering. “W-What?”

“I apologize, allow me to clarify.” Strode smiled. “You recalled the event in which you and approximately three to four others attempted to desert your posts at Fort Windsor. Is it true that this plan was a premeditated one?”

The nerves inside Riza’s stomach twisted as she watched Patrick struggle internally with his answer. This is what Warren had warned and tried to prepare them for. Strode was good at what he does, these types of questions, if answered wrong, could affect how a jury sees them.

“Well...I mean, we weren’t deserting our post we-”

“Isn’t the definition of deserting your post ‘leaving your post without permission from your superior officer with no intention of returning?’” Strode interrupted. 

“Objection, your honor. He must let the witness answer the question before asking another.” Warren had stood quickly, at the ready.

The judge motioned, agreeing. “Do not jump the witness’s response.”

Strode put his hands up, allowing Patrick to continue.

“W-We were not trying to desert our posts. Myself and the others tried to escape to get help for the others that were stuck at Fort Windsor. We were not allowed any outside contact so there was no way for us to communicate our abuses to anyone...things were getting worse by the day.”

“So it is true then, that you premeditated this plot?”

Patrick glanced at Warren, who nodded in a code-like manner, before continuing. “We had discussed it, yes. After things took a drastic turn, we knew we couldn’t afford to wait any longer.”

“And during this discussion, is it true that you were aware that you may have had to commit aggravated assault against an officer as well as break rules regarding the security at Fort Windsor?”

Dawes stopped for a second, trying to understand the question. “A-Aggravated assault?”

“Let me be more clear.” Strode began to pace slowly, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince the witness of what he was accusing. “During this escape, you and the other escapees committed an aggravated assault on an officer on duty in the kitchens, in order to use the small service elevator. Is that true?”

“No we-”

“So are you saying you didn’t assault the kitchen officer?”

“Well sort of-”

“So you agree that you committed aggravated assault?”

“No.” Patrick said quickly. “We were just trying to leave the kitchen, he attacked us first!”

“So you admit to attacking back? When this officer was simply defending the kitchen and trying to stop soldiers from deserting their country, your response was to attack him violently?” 

“Objection, your honor.” Warren stood calmly, hiding his exasperation. “The witness stated that the response was created in a mode of self-defense. Strode is attempting to lead the witness into saying that a crime was committed when it is clear that self-defense is permitted in the military based upon an account by account basis.”

Judge Mattais motioned, turning to Strode. “Self-defense may be permitted if the account is justified.”

“Your honor.” Strode almost laughed. “The account in question has not been officially deemed as a self-defense account, my questions on this matter is simply to understand the situation better.”

The Judge thought for a moment before nodding his head. “I’ll allow it, for now. You may continue.”

Strode turned to Warren with a smug expression before facing Patrick again. “I’d like to move on to a different question. This one is to clarify some of the accusations against General Aeron Boeller.” He walked a little closer to the witness stand. “Now you have made many subjective accusations against my client, however there is no proof that he is single handedly responsible for any of these occurrences. What specific instances can you prove that was a direct cause of General Boeller’s actions?”

“H-He was responsible for all of it. Every bad thing that happened at the Fort-”

“The so-called ‘mass shooting’ that you recounted? In your statement, you claimed that you were fired upon by officers on the balconies above the main hall, is that a true statement?”

“Yes but-”

“So it was a group of officers and not Boeller himself?”

“I-I didn’t see Boeller but I know he was there-”

“So Boeller never fired his gun in that instance, is that true?”

“I-I don’t know-” Patrick began to panic at Strode’s rapid fire questions.

“So you can’t confirm that General Boeller fired his gun?”

“N-No but-”

Warren stood again, his chair scooting backwards and scraping the marble floor. “Objection, your honor, he is clearly badgering the witness. Strode is appearing hostile and refuses to let the witness answer with a clear response.”

Judge Mattais nodded in agreement. “Strode, this is your second warning. Proceed, but know that you are on thin ice. Let the witness answer completely before you ask another question.”

“Yes, your honor.” Strode took a deep breath, his smile returning. “Sergeant Dawes, may I ask, what is your current military occupation?”

Patrick gulped. It was a simple question, yet it didn’t fit with the same severity as the ones before. Riza noticed this change in dynamic, and by the faces of her team and friends around her, they did too. 

“I am an architect, for the military.”

“And is it true that you never went through a military boot camp or have any sort of battle experiences?”

“Y-Yes?”

Strode’s smile turned darker. “So, could it be possible that these ‘abuses’, as you put it, may have just been an uncomfortable adjustment to a true soldier experience?”

“N-No. What happened at Fort Windsor was a...a...countless v-violation-”

“But, if you’ve never experienced the grit and hard labor of a military life previously, then how can you be so sure that these happenings were as difficult for everyone else as it was for you?”

Riza clenched her fists. This lawyer had no idea what it was like to be a soldier for the Amestrian military, let alone understand the torture they went through at Fort Windsor.

“I-I can’t imagine that the military would have allowed-”

“You imagine? But you can’t say for sure, is that true?” Strode asked and as Warren went to stand again, an objection ready to erupt from his mouth, he smiled and put a hand up to halt the proceeding. “I’ll stop you right there, Warren. No further questions, your honor.”

It was as if a sigh of relief echoed through the courtroom as the Judge dismissed Patrick from the stand, allowing him to return to his seat and clutch his wife’s hand once more. As soon as the relief had swept over her, a new wave of anxiety hit Hawkeye. It was her turn.

Warren approached the center after Patrick left, now facing the room. “I’d like to call First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye to the stand.”

Rebecca gave Riza’s shoulder a firm pat and Mustang gave her silent, comforting nod of the head. She stood and took a deep breath, concentrating on every step as her stomach began another round of acrobatic flips inside her. Sitting down, she took a moment to decide whether to look at Boeller or not, after all, she knew he was looking at her. Deciding against it, for now, her eyes locked on her lawyer’s, ready to get this over with. 

Warren began to lead Hawkeye through the first round of questions, just as he had with Patrick, going over the story of Fort Windsor in great detail. She remained calm and collected, her voice never wavered in the face of every gory feature.

As Riza spoke her truth, Mustang sat completely still with his arms crossed over his chest so that he would not rise from his seat and burn Boeller to death right here in this courtroom. Every story Hawkeye was reliving in this moment ate him up inside, his stomach churned and his blood boiled. He took a moment to assess his team’s reactions. Rebecca had her hands covering her mouth nervously, Havoc’s eyes flitted between Hawkeye on the stand and General Boeller at the table, Furey was chewing his lip anxiously and while Breda and Falman appeared stoic, Mustang could tell through their body language that their minds were racing a mile a minute. 

Roy glanced at Olivier and Miles, both equally intrigued by every word that Hawkeye spoke while Major Armstrong breathed a quiet sigh, wiping a tear from his eye with a handkerchief. He looked at the front of the room where Fuhrer Grumman sat, stone faced yet captivated. 

Riza spoke with such clarity and strength, but underneath he knew the underlying pain and anguish she was feeling. Mustang knew the physical exertion she was under too, her wounds were still plaguing her with aches despite their proper healing. It left her sore and tired but still she carried on, that was who she was.

Warren’s voice brought Mustang back to the present situation. “Thank you, First Lieutenant. I have no further questions.” 

Hawkeye took a deep breath, knowing that this next section was the hard part. She snuck a quick glance at Boeller, instantly regretting seeing his face for the mere second that she did. Thankfully, his lawyer was already up and walking towards her. 

“Let us begin, Miss Hawkeye-”

“Objection, your honor.” Warren stood. “It is improper to remove rank when addressing the witness in this court.”

“Agreed.” Judge Mattais motioned to Strode. “Please call the witness by her rank, please.”

Strode held up his hands defensively, a sly smile on his lips. “Of course, your honor.” He turned back to Hawkeye. “My apologies, First Lieutenant.” Riza nodded and Strode continued. “I’d like to start on a question that I asked the other witness. Is it true that the plot to desert your posts during your time at the Fort, was one that you came up with yourself?”

“No.”

“By saying no, are you denying any involvement in the plot to desert your post?”

“There was no plot to desert my post, so my involvement in that wouldn’t exist.” Riza stated.

“As I said earlier, the definition of deserting your post is ‘leaving your post without your superior officer’s permission with no intention of returning’. Isn’t that true?” Strode asked.

“As a soldier, I’m well aware of the definition of desertion. Are you aware that soldiers, under rule 253, have rights that allow them to seek arbitration with another superior officer in regards to misconduct?” Riza replied and when Strode looked taken aback, she continued. “Myself and the three to four others were simply seeking arbitration and asylum from the abhorrent misuse of power and abuse that we were currently suffering.”

Mustang couldn’t help but smile slightly as he watched Strode take a pause to think about how to respond to Riza’s words.

Strode chuckled after a moment, tapping the wood of the witness stand with his hand. “Well, to answer yours, yes, I am aware of rule 253. And for the future, I’ll be asking the questions here.” 

Riza didn’t answer, instead, glanced at Boller to see his fist clenching with a hidden rage. It ignited more fire in her as she turned back to the lawyer. 

“Moving on.” Strode began again. “I’d like to touch on that same night of the attempted desertion in which yourself and the same group assaulted a soldier of the kitchen staff. Is it true that the assault on this soldier occurred?”

“Only after he attacked us, in which I used force to put distance between us.”

Strode smiled, his smug demeanor returning. “So your ‘use of force’ in which you kicked a wooden crate into his shins, hit him over the head and used your boot to fracture a cheekbone was simply to ‘put distance between you’?”

“Yes.” Hawkeye replied without pause. 

It was clearly not the answer that Strode had hoped for, due to his sudden frown. Mustang guessed that he had most likely hoped that Riza would have backtracked, which would have made her story appear weaker. Roy looked at General Armstrong to see a grin spreading across her face.

Strode cleared his throat. “So you agree that an assault occurred?”

“We were assaulted by the soldier in the kitchen, in which we used what we could to leave the situation without harm.”

“Moving to a different instance in which you also assaulted someone during this time, specifically your superior officer, General Boeller.”

Riza’s eyes narrowed slightly, deciding to use a tactic that Warren had mentioned. “Can you specify the incident for me?”

Strode nodded. “Another instance in which you were attempting to desert and you used your boot to break his nose. Can you verify this to be true?”

She took a moment to think out her response before stating confidently. “If the instance you are referring to is the moment after the great battle in the main hall, where General Boeller shot me in the leg, attempted to shoot me in the head but ran out of bullets only to chase me up a pile of debris and stab me in the side, then yes. After those occurrences, I did use my boot to kick him off of me.”

Strode was silent for a minute, his eyes narrowing. The courtroom was still as everyone looked between Riza and Strode, the room quiet except for the sound of General Armstrong’s grin growing wider.

“These accusations against my client does not negate the fact that you admittedly assaulted your superior officer.” Strode said pointedly, clearly unsatisfied by Hawkeye’s confidence. In his mind he calculated options in which to bring down her defense, he realized he would have to resort to plan B. 

Strode began to pace, his smirk returning as his schemes were forming in his mind. “Now, Miss Ha-excuse me, First Lieutenant Hawkeye, it is safe to say you have had quite the interesting career, yes?”

Riza watched Boeller’s lawyer cautiously, unsure of what he was going to try to use against her. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to use the example of how she had gotten to Fort Windsor, as Mustang had never reported it as unlawful. ‘So what would he use against me? Ishval? The Promised Day maybe?’ She thought to herself.

“I suppose.” She said flatly.

“Quite the career indeed. In fact, it seems that rebelion finds you around every corner. You really seem to have a knack for it, after all, an entire year ago you helped bring down some of the Senior Staff, is that true?”

“Objection, your honor.” Warren stood. “The events that unfolded over a year ago are not relevant to this case, nor does it pertain to any guilty sentencing as the witness’s name has been cleared along other notable players in that event.”

The Judge nodded and turned to Strode, who spoke in defense smoothly. 

“I assure you, your honor. There is somewhere to go with all of this.” His words slunk out like silk.

Judge Mattais sighed and waved him to continue. “Fine, but please make your point quickly.”

“Of course, Sir.” Strode returned his attention to Hawkeye. “Of course, the time over a year ago isn’t the only interesting thing on your track record. Ishval is quite a gruesome way to start a career, but not an uncommon one I suppose. Is it true that you were sent to the front lines without having finished bootcamp?”

Mustang gripped his fists, wondering how the lawyer was allowed to bring that up. He watched Riza stiffen slightly, her face remained as stoic as ever but in her eyes he knew that worry was lurking. 

“That is true, yes. Due to my skill set and the need for more recruits on the ground, I was sent to bring aid to those stationed there.”

“And by skill set you mean your ability to shoot, yes? Sniper abilities are your specialties?”

“Yes.”

“So that would mean that you have acquired skills that would have suited you well at Fort Windsor, such as sneaking around and shooting to kill which, numbers don’t lie, it is very rare that you miss a target. Is that true?”

“I suppose it helped me to survive. I learned to endure.” Riza left her answer short, but Strode was happy with it nonetheless.

“Right, endurance. As well as other skills...skills that would most likely not be listed on paper, yes?”

Riza blinked for a moment, trying to understand the question. Warren eyed Strode warily, not quite sure of what he was up to.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean?” Riza said inquisitively. 

Bingo. Strode’s smug expression and arrogant air had returned in full force as he continued to pace slowly. “Well, you were sent to Ishval quite early, and while you did return to finish boot camp after the war was over, you were not long without a career path. And it didn’t long after that before you were rapidly rising through the ranks, is that true?”

“W-Well under unique circumstances, I had a lot of opportunities to do so.”

“What kind of unique circumstances allowed for these opportunities?”

Judge Mattais put up a hand to stop Strode. “Can you please be more specific in your questioning?”

“Of course, your honor.” He turned back to Hawkeye. “I’ll be more blunt. Miss Hawkeye, have you ever had sexual relations with a Superior Officer?”

Riza’s breath caught in her throat as her face got warm. The whole room had their jaws drop in surprise, even General Armstrong looked bewildered. Warren’s mouth was hanging open before finally shooting up out of his chair, stuttering out an interruption.

“O-Objection, your honor this-I mean...come on, not only i-is this an inappropriate question but it has nothing to do with the situation at hand. The witness should absolutely not have to answer that question.”

Judge Mattais turned to Strode. “Does this question pertain to anything relevant in this case?”

“I assure you it does, I am simply speaking to the credibility of the witness based on allegations against my client.”

The Judge thought for a moment before sighing. “Alright, the witness will answer the question-”

“What?” Warren said loudly. “You can’t be serious-”

Judge Mattais banged the gavel. “Order. I am the judge in charge of this matter. Don’t interrupt me again, Warren. And Strode, you are on a final warning.” He turned to Riza. “Please answer the question, First Lieutenant.”

“I’ll repeat it for you.” Strode jumped in. “Have you ever had sexual relations with a Superior Officer?” 

Riza gripped the edge of her skirt in anger, trying to keep her hands from shaking. She narrowed her eyes at Strode. “No.”

“Really? Never?” Strode responded hastily in a humorous tone.

“Objection.” Warren stood back up. “She answered the question already. Stop badgering the witness.”

Judge Mattais banged the gavel. “That is enough, Strode.”

Strode put his hands up, his grin still plastered on his face. He had planted the seed and that was good enough for him. He turned back to the witness stand. “Thank you, Miss Hawkeye. No further questions.”

While the lawyer walked back to his seat, Riza was dismissed by the judge and she made her way back to her seat with Rebecca, Mustang, and the others. She was thankful to be greeted by Rebecca’s hand on her shoulder and Roy whispering to her.

“You did your best. You did well.”

“I just hope it was enough.” She whispered back, before glancing at Patrick who gave her a sympathetic smile. 

The judge banged the gavel once more to gather everyone’s attention. “The court will now take a fifteen minute recess.”

Now came the part that Hawkeye dreaded most. After these fifteen minutes were up, it would be his turn. General Boeller. Something didn’t sit right in the pit of her stomach.


	30. Trial Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the continuation of the Trial! I am really excited for this one and I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know whatcha think, and as always, thank you all for reading! :)

Chapter 30: Trial Part 2

Riza sighed and placed a hand on her side, trying to ignore the slight ache and the twisting feeling in her stomach. It had to be the longest fifteen minutes of her life. Everyone in the courtroom had been dismissed for a break and while General Boeller remained with his lawyer, most had wandered into the main room to stretch legs and get some air. She distracted herself by talking quietly with Rebecca and General Olivier.

In the restroom, Patrick closed the door to the stall and washed his hands, eager to return to the crowd. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The feeling had plagued him all day but he couldn’t seem to find anyone following him. ‘Maybe this is just what it feels like to be under the watchful eyes of a courtroom…’ He thought to himself. Patrick exited the bathroom and turned towards the crowd of people, accidentally bumping into someone. There was a sharp pain in his arm as the two persons collided.

The man hid his face and apologized before excusing himself and dashed for the bathroom. Patrick watched the man disappear behind the door, rubbing his arm. “That was...strange…?”

He approached his wife, who had come to stand by Hawkeye and her group. He rubbed his arm again, wincing slightly at the irritation under his suit. 

Hawkeye’s eye never missed a beat. “Are you alright, Patrick?” She asked, noticing his hand on his arm.

“Y-Yeah...I’m fine.” He looked back towards the bathroom before turning around again. “I bumped into someone, they must have been carrying a pencil or something...it must’ve poked my arm.”

Mustang approached the group to alert them that the break was nearly over, leaving no more time to discuss the odd occurrence and Patrick shrugged it off. There were more important things at hand.

Roy’s eyes scanned the room outside the court carefully, noticing the bathroom door open as a mousy looking man exited wearing a guard’s uniform. He didn’t look like any of the guards in the courtroom, something about him seemed off. The man looked pale, tired and slightly nervous. Mustang’s eyes narrowed as he pulled Havoc aside.

“Do you recognize that guard?” 

Havoc thought about it as he stared at the man in question. “Not that I recall, if he was here before then he wasn’t in the courtroom.”

As the courtroom was settling in, Mustang nodded to Havoc. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

“Yes, Sir.” The Second Lieutenant saluted as they reentered the court, taking their seats once more. 

Roy looked over to Riza, her eyes watched the stand carefully, knowing who would be up on that pedestal in a matter of minutes. He wanted to reach over to her but knew that it wouldn’t be the right time, instead he offered her a small smile and she thanked him silently. 

Judge Mattais knocked the gavel on the podium to alert everyone that things would be proceeding. “I’d like to resume now in which the next witness shall be called. Strode, you may proceed first as it is your client.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Strode stood and walked to the center of the court, turning to the room. “I’d like to call my client, General Aeron Boeller to the stand.” 

Riza’s body tensed slightly and Rebecca grabbed her hand and squeezed it, calming the rise in anxiety. She looked over to check on Patrick, frowning upon noticing his face paling and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. One of his hands clutched his wife’s and the other gripped the chair in front of him. He looked ill and Hawkeye wondered if the pressure or stress was finally getting to him.

The sound of Strode’s voice pulled her back to the situation at hand as Boeller took a seat in the very place she had been just minutes ago. Hawkeye took a deep breath in order to keep a composed expression while the entire room seemed to lean forward in anticipation. Havoc watched intently, but glanced occasionally at the suspicious guard who was now standing in the back of the room.

“General Aeron Boeller. As it is, there are currently heavy accusations against you. I’d like to start with your beginning and give you a chance to tell your side of the story.” Strode motioned for his client to begin. “How did you come about the position of power inside Fort Windsor?”

Boeller’s voice was just how Hawkeye remembered it, and it sent that all too familiar chill down her spine. 

“I was offered the position of head General by a committee working on the construction of a new Fort stationed in the North. I had spent my most recent years in the North so I was well suited for placement, of course.” Boeller smiled, a confidence radiated off of him with an air of knowing something that others didn’t. 

“And this committee was comprised of a team that you had not worked closely with, is that true?”

“While I had not worked with most of them in any long term projects, I came highly recommended on paper. After speaking with the committee, they believed I would be the best fit as I had much experience and know the harshness of winters in the North.”  
General Olivier scoffed, only loud enough for the few around her to hear.

“And what sort of tasks did you perform at Fort Windsor, as part of your new position?” Strode asked.

“Well, maintaining the safety and care of the soldiers stationed under my charge was a top priority, as well as making sure they would be prepared and suited for potential battle. I took it upon myself to give them what I could.”

Riza felt an anger boil inside her, giving Rebecca’s hand another squeeze. ‘How can I be surprised? It’s not like he would outwardly admit to any wrongdoing.’ She thought to herself.

Strode moved on to a new question. “Now, when exactly did the first sign of trouble amongst the attitudes of the soldiers stationed in your care first begin?”

General Boeller did not miss a beat. “Why, it was one of my most recent infantries that began to stir things up almost immediately upon arrival. Many of them were from Central Command, and they were not used to the sturdier conditions and work involved in maintaining such a magnificent place.” Boeller moved his eyes to focus on Hawkeye. “Some of those soldiers did not like how I ran things...it was too foreign to them, and even when I gave them opportunities to grow they only rebelled more.”

Hawkeye narrowed her eyes back at Boeller before he turned back to his lawyer. “The insurgency that was started by a small group of them quickly spread after the tragic death of a soldier. He was found murdered by Drachman soldiers. I reported it, of course. I gave him a proper funeral but this group of rebels blamed me and tried to convince others that it was me who had done it. I can’t think of a motive for myself, in which I would have even wanted to commit such a heinous act.”

Strode smiled, satisfied with his client’s story. “And as the leader in charge, I can’t imagine you would ever wish to harm your subordinates-”

Boeller interrupted, his voice low and humorous. “It’s like I always say, you’ve heard the story about the turtle and the hare, yes?”

The room’s inner thoughts were thrown into confusion as everyone watched him carefully, unsure of why he was bringing up an old children’s story. Even Strode looked taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. 

“Yes? I suppose we have all heard the classic tale-”

“Well, the story of Fort Windsor is very similar to that of the turtle and the Hare. See, the Hare would have won if he hadn’t been so advantageous, perhaps he should’ve more properly tied his Shoe, the turtle had a bad shot when his car got a flat Tire.”  
Hawkeye’s brows furrowed in confusion. ‘That’s not how the story goes…?’ She thought, looking towards her companions who were in a similar state of bewilderment. Havoc leaned forward to whisper in Mustang’s ear.

“What the hell is this guy talking about?”

Mustang shrugged in response, Rebecca whispered to them. “Maybe he really has lost it?”

Hawkeye looked at Patrick who had begun to shudder and shake, holding on tightly to the seat in front of him as if he was trying to keep from vomiting. The guard from the back of the room quietly made his way forward up the aisle until he was standing next to the seat in front of Patrick. 

Boeller kept talking, despite the whisperings. “Although the hare could have won had he not stopped to eat the Apple. The turtle did have quite the wandering eye for watching the Clouds. The moral of the story is that sometimes, you just don’t have time to smell the Roses.”

A strange feeling washed over Riza as another chill ran up her spine. Something was off about this story, and not just the fact that it was nearly nonsense. There was something in the way that General Boeller spoke that put an emphasis on certain words, she struggled to remember which ones he had just said.

‘Hare was emphasized more than the turtle even though the story is about both of them...then he mentioned a shoe very specifically…?’ Riza thought as she looked at Patrick again, he had stopped shaking and was eerily still, his eyes staring at Boeller, his eyes were wide with dilated pupils. She had seen that look once before, but where?

General Boeller let out a small chuckle, his grin growing wider. At this point, not even his own Lawyer knew what was going on.

“This guy’s crazier than we thought.” General Olivier said to Major Miles.

Riza thought harder, trying to understand what was happening. ‘Hare, shoe, tire...then an apple? Cloud...Roses…’ Suddenly this string of words clicked in her brain. ‘It’s a code!’ She looked at General Boeller’s laughing face. ‘But...that’s not the code I remember…’

Boeller slowed down his laughter, stating in a humorous tone. “And to think! These rebels thought I was capable of such horrendous acts…” He slowly made eye contact with Patrick. “...as if I would ever try to kill Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye-”

The next few seconds happened so quickly, Riza had no time to truly register what was going on. Her head snapped to look at Patrick who was reaching for a gun in the holster of the suspicious guard standing in front of him. As he grabbed it, Hawkeye moved without thinking. Leaping from her seat, she met Patrick halfway across the aisle with the gun pointed at her face. Her hands grabbed the barrel of the gun and in such a rush of adrenaline, she used her strength to force the barrel upwards just as it fired a bullet towards the ceiling. The heat from the barrel singed her hand but before she could recover, Patrick took her to the ground with his hand gripping her throat. 

He was suddenly ripped off of her and sent flying backwards by Mustang and Havoc. Rebecca was kneeling on the ground by her, hastily assessing any injuries. Hawkeye choked out a few deep breaths as her friend rubbed her back. General Mustang had left a squirming, crying Patrick in the hands of Lieutenant Havoc and Sergeant Furey. The room had descended into a commotion of onlookers and incessant chatterings, nearly masking the sound of Patrick’s wife crying out for her husband. 

“Are you okay?” Roy’s face was plastered with worry, checking her injuries just as Rebecca had done.

Riza nodded, her breath returning to her. “Y-Yeah…” She looked at the palms of her hands, stained red from the heat of the gun’s barrel. “It’s not that bad, really…”

Rebecca got up to grab a medic, leaving Hawkeye on the floor with Mustang beside her. He helped her sit and she turned to look at General Boeller, who remained sitting on the stand. His smug smile made her feel cold inside and a sense of pure hatred loomed over her. Riza glared at him, unaware that her hand was slowly hovering towards the gun that had been dropped moments ago. ‘One shot…’ Riza thought to herself. ‘...one shot is all it would take-’

As her hand gripped the metal of the gun, Mustang’s hand rested on hers, gripping gently and bringing her back to reality. She looked at him, eyes frightened as he shook his head, a signal that said to her ‘...Not here...Not now…’. Riza knew better than to distrust Roy and she released the gun, allowing General Mustang to hand it off to Major Armstrong.

Mustang helped Riza to stand, her wounds aching from the friction and exertion she had just endured. Rebecca returned with a medic to wrap Hawkeye’s hand in a cold compress, allowing Roy the time to turn his attention to the suspicious guard with the mousy look to him. His dark eyes scanned the room but found no sign of him.

“Yo, Chief.” Havoc nudged him. “I don’t see the strange guard anywhere so I’ve sent Falman and Breda to do a perimeter check.”

“Noted.” Mustang acknowledged. “How is Sergeant Dawes?”

“They’ve escorted him out, he has calmed down a bit but he just seems so...out of it? Like, it’s as if he didn’t understand what exactly he was doing...Like the time in the office when Lieutenant Hawkeye watched those images-” 

Breda approached them. “They are taking Dawes and his wife to the hospital escorted by Central Officers, the doctors will sort him out from there until the trial is over.”

“So what’s going to happen now? Do you think they’re going to continue?” Havoc asked.

Mustang shook his head. “I’m not sure.” He looked to the Judge who was currently speaking with the Fuhrer and the two lawyers. “We’ll have to wait and see.” Roy walked to where Riza sat in a chair with Rebecca at her side. Hawkeye was having her hands wrapped in a cold compress by the medic, not even wincing at the pain. Despite the new add to her injury list and the slight dishevelment of her hair, her face remained stoic and collected. 

“Are you doing alright?” Roy asked her.

She nodded but didn’t speak. He was satisfied enough with that answer as he stood a closer, protective stance by her. His eyes narrowed at Boeller, who was being guarded in his seat. Roy bit his lip and clenched his fist in anger, trying to remind himself that he had just stopped his Lieutenant from murdering that man right here in this courtroom. He felt a slight twinge to snap his gloved hand nonetheless.

Warren excused himself from the group composed of the Fuhrer, Judge and Strode to kneel by Riza. “How are you?”

“Fine.” She replied quickly. “But the trial isn’t over.”

“No, it’s not.” Warren agreed. “However, the Fuhrer and Judge Mattais are wondering if you’d like to postpone the rest, save it for another da-”

“No.” Riza said firmly. At this, the rest of Team Mustang and General Armstrong, Major Miles and Major Armstrong had regrouped around her. “No, this has to be done today.”

“It might be better to wait, you just had a scary experience-”

“I’m well acquainted with scary experiences, this is nothing new to me.” Hawkeye’s eyes never wavered in determination as she stared at Warren. “And the longer he sits out of prison, the longer my nightmare is. We bring him down today.”

General Olivier quirked an eyebrow at Warren. “You heard her, she wants justice today. You’d better deliver it too, this isn’t any ordinary soldier you are serving.”

Warren scoffed. “That is the truest thing in this courtroom. Alright Hawkeye, this battle ends today.”

It only took half an hour for the court to settle back completely, Judge Mattais hit his gavel to call the room to order once more.   
“We are hereby recommencing the proceedings. Our last witness has forfeited his right to speak due to the disturbance he caused in the courtroom. Only his lawyer is to speak for him from here on out.” Judge Mattais glared at Boeller before turning his attention back to the room. “I would like to go over the evidence recovered at the physical location of Fort Windsor. Warren you may start.”

The next hour consisted of photographs taken of what was left of the Fort, including the weaponry that had been built as well as the unsavory living conditions. Warren showed examples of the thin grey uniforms, the lack of basic necessities, unsent letters from soldiers trapped inside the fort and as much recovered evidence from the experiments they had collected. The next hour after that was mostly Strode delivering excuses and counter arguments to the evidence, this of course, didn’t last too long. It was a strong case against General Boeller and after the incident with Dawes, Warren was confident that the jury would find the General guilty.

Judge Mattais dismissed the jury to a private room in which they would discuss the testimonies and the evidence before making a decision. It also didn’t take long for the jury to deliberate as they were done within thirty minutes. 

“All rise for the verdict.” Judge Mattais called out, causing the entire room to stand as the jury walked back into the courtroom. 

‘This is it.’ Riza thought to herself. ‘They have to find him guilty, they just have to.’ Her heart was racing and her hands began to tremble slightly in anticipation.

General Boeller and his lawyer stood as well, awaiting the outcome. A member of the jury held a piece of paper, clearing his throat. “We, the jury, find the accused General Aeron Boeller...Guilty...on all accounts.”

Judge Mattais thanked the jury before addressing the court. “As the jury has decided the verdict, I, the Judge, presiding over this case will be in dictation of your sentencing. General Aeron Boeller, for the crimes you have committed against the Country of Amestris and for the responsibility of the death of multiple soldiers, I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole, where you will await the possibility of a death sentence should the highest officers vote upon it.” And with the bang of the gavel, the sentence was set in stone.

A sigh of relief rushed throughout the room, like a heavy weight had been lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

Hawkeye watched General Boeller as he slowly turned his face towards hers, making eye contact as a slow smile crept over his face. His grin grew from ear to ear and that cocky arrogance returned to his aura, making Hawkeye’s stomach twist in fear. That look that Boeller wore was one she had seen only hours ago, a look that said ‘I know something you don’t’.

Suddenly, the walls of the courtroom shook and the ground rumbled. The sound of an explosion burst through the building, shattering the glass of the windows and people screamed as pieces of the ceiling fell from above. Everyone ducked for cover as the room was engulfed in a thick black smoke.


	31. Chasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, you guys, I apologize for not getting this chapter out in a timely manner. It's been a crazy two weeks and this chapter was bigger than I thought it was going to be lol oops! But seriously, thank you guys for all your kind words and for everyone who has stuck with this story for so long-only a few more chapters left! Ahhh! Anyways, this chapter and the next are big chapters so stay tuned! (Also beware TW for this chapter and the next, just for some violence mostly.) I hope you all enjoy! <3 (And a Happy Thanksgiving to you all, stay safe!)

Chapter 31: Chasing

Hawkeye watched General Boeller as he slowly turned his face towards hers, making eye contact as a slow smile crept over his face. His grin grew from ear to ear and that cocky arrogance returned to his aura, making Hawkeye’s stomach twist in fear. That look that Boeller wore was one she had seen only hours ago, a look that said ‘I know something you don’t’.

Suddenly, the walls of the courtroom shook and the ground rumbled. The sound of an explosion burst through the building, shattering the glass of the windows and people screamed as pieces of the ceiling fell from above. Everyone ducked for cover as the room was engulfed in a thick black smoke.

Riza felt herself hit the ground and without seeing, she felt the bodies around her drop to the floor for a quick cover. Despite the shock, a courtroom full of trained officers knew when to drop out of the way of an explosion. Dust congealed in the air as the ringing grew louder in her ears. 

She slowly lifted her head, quickly realizing that she had landed in the aisle of the courtroom. Her breath was labored from the thick air and the ache from her strained wounds spread throughout her body. Positioning herself on her elbows, her eyes zeroed in on the front of the room to assess the situation. A figure suddenly darted across the front of the room towards a back door, turning around only for a moment to look back which gave Hawkeye a split-second chance to recognize him. 

General Boeller smiled at her then threw open the back door and made his escape. A sudden rage boiled inside of Riza, burning deep within her as her eyes narrowed on his retreating form. With this anger came a rush of adrenaline that propelled her upwards and forced her legs to carry her towards that back door. She sprinted faster, even leaping over a piece of the fallen ceiling to get to where she wanted to go. Her hands pushed the back door open into a long hallway. 

There was the distant sound of someone calling her name from behind but she had no intention of stopping to know who it was, for the only focus on her mind right now was following the loud, hurried footsteps of her adversary down a set of hallways. 

Boeller skidded to a halt and barreled through a set of double doors that led to the alleyway behind the courthouse, taking off down the street as his boots splashed in the puddles on the ground. Riza was met with a brisk gust of air as she dashed into the alleyway after him. Her heels clicked as she went after him, rounding a corner and down another block only to realize that she was losing speed. Going down another alleyway, she kicked off her heels, leaving the abandoned shoes in the alley. Riza noted that they must be pretty far from the courthouse by now. 

General Boeller slid to a stop in the middle of another dark alleyway, looking around to see that Hawkeye had yet to fully catch up with him. He slid aside an old gate that was leaned against the wall of a building, revealing an old cellar door. General Boeller opened the door and snuck inside, the thin wooden doors vibrated from the force of them being shut so quickly.

Hawkeye was about to pass an alleyway when she heard a sound from beside her. She stopped and looked into the alley, focusing her eyes and carefully crept over to the old gate that was propped against the wall. The cellar doors were unlocked as she quietly pried them open and stepped down the cement stairs into the dark. The cement on her bare feet was cold and forced a shiver through her body. As Riza descended the last step she could just barely make out the large room using only the dim light provided from the cellar doors. Her fingers felt for a light switch on the wall, flicking it on to reveal the room’s contents. 

The room was larger than she had anticipated, with the shadows removed it was nearly the length of a small warehouse. A table sat in the middle of the room, littered with various glass containers and science equipment. Next to the table was a bed with straps, a projector sat next to it and it reminded her of the horrors of Fort Windsor. It was similar equipment, but this room was dirtier and more unkempt. 

Riza put her hand over her mouth at the damp smell and cringed at the sound of rats aggressively skittering around in cages against the back wall. She took a few steps forward, her eyes widening with horror and her heart began to race as she did not see General Boeller anywhere in this room.

Suddenly, she heard a loud thwack and felt something hard hit her upper back just below her neck. Pain ebbed from the blow as it knocked her off balance, sending her collapsing to the damp ground. Her vision blurred and the room spun into darkness.

The Courtroom, 10 minutes prior  
Roy removed his hands from above his head, opening his eyes to dust and smoke. He pulled his military uniform over his nose and looked around. Rebecca was right next to him, slowly sitting up with a groan. He checked that his team were also coming out from where they had landed for cover. General Olivier and Major Miles had been covered by Armstrong who was scratched up but otherwise okay. Mustang looked to where Riza was laying on her stomach in the aisle, propped up by her elbows with her eyes fixated on something at the front of the room. He looked towards the same direction, seeing a glimpse of General Boeller escaping through the back door. He snapped his head back to Riza, seeing her rise and break into a sprint towards the back door. 

“Lieutenant Hawkeye! Hawkeye!” He called out hoarsely, his voice still agitated by the tainted air. “Hawkeye!” 

Ready to follow, he leapt over Rebecca who was coughing loudly, still not recovered from the blast. He turned around to face his team who were still untangling themselves or others from the debris, his eyes were wide and his heart was beating a mile a minute as he was pulled in two different directions. 

“Mustang!” General Olivier called to him. He turned to meet her stern expression as she was helping Rebecca to stand. “Go! Go get your Lieutenant!”

“But-”

“I said go! We’ll take care of things here. Now go!” She glared at him and he decided not to fight her on it, after all, keeping his Lieutenant safe was the one priority now. 

Mustang saw Havoc and Furey standing, having pulled Breda and Falman out from some light debris. “Lieutenant Havoc, Sergeant Furey!”

The two nodded and followed him, leaving the rest of the team to handle the aftermath, assisted by General Armstrong and her crew. They knew time was of the essence to get to Hawkeye and assure her safety.

The trio nearly flew through the back door and through a set of hallways, finding the double doors that led to the alleyway behind the courthouse. After running down the alley to the street they looked around frantically. 

“Which direction do you think they went?” Furey asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know…” Mustang thought frantically about which street to take, looking for any clues that might tell him.

Havoc noticed a shopkeeper looking at them from her fruit stand. “Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see a blonde woman run down this street, about a minute or two ago?”

She nodded. “Oh yes, she was chasing after someone. They ran down this street and around that corner.”

“Thank you.” Mustang said quickly before the three bounded down the street and around the corner, hoping she would be there and not in the clutches of General Boeller.

In the Cellar, A few minutes later  
Riza slowly opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden light. She swallowed hard, nearly gagging on the dryness in her throat. A spot on her back just below the neck throbbed with pain. She went to sit up but found her wrists were bound, strapping her to a bed. Still nearly blinded by the light above her, she lunged fiercely against her restraints as an oncoming panic began to set in. ‘I...I’m back...I’m back-it’s Fort Windsor a-all over again…’ Riza thought in panic. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath quickening as she pulled desperately on the straps that held her arms, legs and chest down. 

“You’re going to want to save your energy.” A voice said, coming from somewhere behind her that she couldn’t see. She didn’t have to. She knew who it was. General Boeller stepped around to the side of the bed, moving the lamp out of her face so that Riza could see him better. “There we are...just like old times, isn’t it?”

Hawkeye lunged towards him but Boeller didn’t flinch, he never did. He just stared at her with a vague expression that slowly turned to exasperation. 

“You know...it would be like old times, except somebody just had to go blow up my beautiful fort and destroy all of my progress.” He began to pace around the table slowly, eyeing her as a predator stalks its prey. “I was so close too...so close to finally showing those stuck up, mush-for-brains senior officers who was truly the mastermind among them. How I could create the perfect soldier, an army of elite beings unparalleled by modern technology.”

Riza glared at him as he stalked around her, steadying her breathing. “An army of elite beings?”

“Yes.” General Boeller continued to pace. “A group of soldiers capable of incredible skill.”

“I hate to break it to you...but the old senior staff already tried that one over a year ago, it didn’t work-”

Boeller stopped at the foot of the bed, suddenly slamming his fists down in rage making Riza recoil as far back as possible.

“Those bastards had it all wrong! They put me in charge of creating a legion of super soldiers, but when I came to them with my findings...they shunned me! The methods I used caused too many complaints...my methods were too ‘inhumane’ they said!” His eyes were wide and his face grew flush with anger as he kicked the table nearby. “And these were the same bastards who initiated the extermination of Ishval! So instead they shunned me, sent me to the North to rot while stealing my idea! Except they did it wrong, they put human souls inside immortal bodies but the problem with that…” Boeller slowly began to calm, his voice dipping into a low, dangerous tone. “...those soldiers were not human...they had no fear of the consequences of retaliation...you can’t control them.”

Hawkeye watched him carefully, hyper aware of his unpredictability. She noted that this version of him was like when he had stabbed her on the pile of debris, intent on killing her. ‘I’ll have to make my moves carefully.’ She thought to herself.

General Boeller straightened up, looking at Riza with narrowed eyes. “I’ve never been able to fully control you.”

A chill ran down her spine. “Then why...w-why choose me?”

He did something that she did not expect. He smiled. “I wondered that myself. As you were aware, I attempted to use the same experiments on others in the Fort. Most were easy enough to break them down, learn their code, but they just didn’t have the same stamina...take Patrick Dawes, for example. He was so easy to control. All it took was a little serum and his code, and he was under my full command. So much so, he even tried to kill you simply because I said so. Unfortunately, he was too easily subdued and I had to resort to my backup plan.”

“But why try to have me killed in the courtroom, why not just assassinate me somewhere else where I was more vulnerable?” Hawkeye’s voice did not waver this time, trying to retrieve what answers she could out of him.

He sighed. “I had hoped that if Dawes had succeeded, the jury would have been inclined to see my suggestion that the soldiers inside the Fort were the ones who were dangerous. If he had killed you in front of everyone, well...then he goes to prison or the firing squad and I walk away with minimal time for neglect of conditions.”

Riza’s stomach churned with nausea at the idea of Patrick almost being blamed for her murder.

“I did worry that it wouldn’t work. So I had some explosives manufactured to be placed under the bushes outside the windows and one on the ceiling, in case I needed to make a quick escape.” He glared at her. “I did not intend for you to follow me, of course, but as usual you have to make everything more difficult. However, I am happy to still use you to my advantage."

“Why me?” Riza asked again.

“Because you are the perfect soldier. You have exceptional skills in combat, weaponry, sharpshooting. When I first saw you shoot in the main hall, I knew I had to have you…”

Boeller came around to the side of the bed, sitting on it’s edge and leaning in closer to her face. Riza shrunk away as much as she could, but had little place to go. 

“I also knew you were incredibly loyal to the Flame Alchemist, turning your loyalty was going to be the toughest part and sometimes I wondered if I had bit off more than I could chew.” He smiled wider. “I haven’t gotten full control of you yet, but…” Boeller leaned in and put a finger to her temple and tapped twice. “...I still got into that head of yours, didn’t I?”

Her eyes widened and she felt her heart starting to race again. He was too close, it was that overwhelming sense of danger she had felt when she was trapped by him in his office. His eyes lingered on her for a while, like he was about to pounce on an intended target. 

The doors to the cellar opened and Boeller stood quickly, greeting someone with a menacing tone. 

“Goddamnit, Norris! What took you so damn long?” 

Riza strained her neck to see a meek, mousy sort of man dressed in a guard’s uniform that was clearly not his size. He was clutching a briefcase and looked grey from apparent stress. 

“S-Sorry, but...I had to go back for the briefcase and there w-were soldiers everywhere. I could tell someone was watching me the whole time during the trial and-”

“Were you followed?” 

“N-No. I was careful about taking the alleyways like you told me to.”

“Good, now get that serum.” Boeller turned back to Hawkeye laying on the bed. “We’re going to need it.”

Riza made eye contact with Norris, who paled at the sight of her strapped down. He loosened his collar as if it was choking him. “S-Sir...shouldn’t we wait-”

“I SAID NOW.” Boeller snapped, spurring Norris to quickly unpack his briefcase and pull out a syringe. The meek man filled it with the sickly green liquid, the same kind she was injected with at Fort Windsor.

Riza began to struggle again, which made Norris all the more jumpy. She tried to use this advantage by looking at him, whimpering and begging for him to stop. His hands holding the syringe began to shake and he gulped. Boeller grew livid watching the scene, stomping up to the bed and smacking Riza across the face. 

“You think those little tricks are going to work?” He turned to Norris who was lowering the syringe, unable to watch Hawkeye be hit. Boeller screamed in frustration. “I guess I’ll have to do it myself.” 

Boeller grabbed the syringe with much protest from Norris, but he could not be stopped. Coming back over to Riza he injected the needle into her arm without hesitation, ignoring her scream of pain. Once the fluid had been emptied into her bloodstream, Boeller ripped it from her arm causing blood to stream down her skin. 

Hawkeye cried, still fighting against the straps and already sensing the light headed feeling start to take hold of her. “N-No...No. No. No…” Her muscles became weaker as she became more subdued. ‘I can’t...I can’t let this happen…’ 

A projected image appeared on the ceiling above her. Someone had turned on the projector.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to look away but a pair of hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back. Boeller held her face and used his thumbs to keep her eyes locked on the images as they filtered through a pattern she knew all too well. As the images passed by, her consciousness slowly dissolved into that dark, dark place she had been before.

In the streets of Central  
Mustang ran in the direction that the shop owner had told him, followed closely by Furey and Havoc. They rounded the block and the two subordinates nearly slammed into their superior’s back as he came to a screeching halt.

“General, what the fu-” Havoc stopped talking as soon as he saw it. Just up ahead was the suspicious man in a guard’s uniform that they had seen in the courtroom. They watched him look around nervously before slipping around the next corner.

“Let’s follow him.” Mustang ordered. “He must be working for Boller, which means he’ll lead us right to him.”

“But Sir, aren’t we trying to find Lieutenant Hawkeye?” Furey asked, following his General as they resumed a quick pace.

“If Hawkeye followed Boeller, our best bet is that she’ll be wherever he is.” Havoc answered.

Mustang stopped at the corner, the three of them poking their heads out just enough to watch where the suspicious guard was going. Havoc and Furey glanced up at General Mustang, who wore a darkened expression on his face, one that they hadn’t ever seen before.

“Sir?” Furey asked timidly. “What happens when we find General Boeller?”

Roy breathed in deeply, his eyes narrowed on the mousy man turning to enter an alleyway up ahead. “He better pray that Hawkeye found and killed him first, because when I find him…” His gloved fist clenched with a twitch, an urge to release flames was nearly overpowering him at the thought that Hawkeye was possibly alone with General Boeller once more. 

Havoc and Furey looked at each other, deciding not to press the issue further. The three moved in on the alleyway, crouching out of sight as the man went around another corner into a different alleyway. Mustang looked down at the damp ground, seeing Hawkeye’s shoes discarded there. His heart began to race wildly as he hopped over them and slid around the corner. 

A piece of a metal gate shook as it leaned against the wall. He motioned for his men to be quiet and they slowly advanced on the gate. Roy noticed there was something behind it, what looked like a set of cellar doors and he listened for a minute to assess the situation. He counted a few footsteps, and by the sound of them and how quickly they vanished, he could tell they were descending a set of stairs.

Looking at Havoc and Furey, who had their guns already drawn, he rallied them to discuss the next plan of action. 

“Should we call for backup?” Havoc asked.

“No. I don’t want to lose our position here. You two stay put, be on the lookout.”

“Sir. We are not going to stand by, we are going with you.” Furey huffed. 

Roy nodded. “If you’re sure, then let’s go.” 

“Let’s get our Lieutenant back.” Havoc smiled, holding his gun at the ready. Furey followed suit, his face just as determined. 

Roy slid the gate as quietly as he could, the sound of scraping metal echoed in the alleyway. They hesitated at the loud noise for a moment, a shuffling and a clatter of something was heard down below them, and they waited to see if the cellar doors would open on them. After a few moments of nothing happening, Mustang reached for the handle and grasped it firmly. He slowly pulled open one door while Furey grabbed the other and the three descended down the stairs into a large, musty room. The three immediately were hit by the stench of rats, who scratched wildly in their cages, and a table of lab equipment sat next to a bed with straps attached to it. 

They eyed the room, noticing that there was no one inside it but them. Furey cautiously approached the bed with straps, seeing blood stains on one side of the weathered sheets. 

“S-Sir...there’s blood on this bed...and it looks recent.”

Mustang looked at Furey’s scared face, then moved closer to the bed. It wasn’t a lot of blood, thankfully, but the idea of the straps did make his stomach churn. The three men looked around the room for a sign that might lead them to Hawkeye’s whereabouts.

Havoc caught a glint of something unusual behind one of the rat cages on the back wall. He waved Mustang and Furey over to check out what looked like a possible door positioned behind it. The two subordinates silently moved over the cage, using their strength to slide it to the side as Roy readied his gloves. He guessed that whoever was behind that door most likely had his Lieutenant, and if they did, there would be hell to pay.


	32. Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! I apologize for this update being late as well, it's been kind of crazy busy this holiday season as I'm sure you all are feeling it too. But this chapter is a big one! It's also nearing the end of this story. There should only be one more chapter after this! :'( But I want to thank everyone who has been with this story since the beginning and thank you to anyone who has just found this story but read all of it, and thank you to everyone in between! We are in the home stretch. Also keep an eye out for my A/N for next chapter for what my next fic is going to be! (TW for this chapter-Emotional Distress, Mild Violence) I hope you enjoy~

Chapter 32: Showdown

Roy readied his gloves. He guessed that whoever was behind that door most likely had his Lieutenant, and if they did, there would be hell to pay. Havoc put his hand on the nob and turned towards his comrades, waiting for the signal. General Mustang took a deep breath, there was no more time to waste, nodding his head. They opened the door and burst into another room, this one was even dimmer and damper than the one before. Shadows surrounded the walls, making it impossible to see anything in the shrouded sides of the room. 

Mustang felt a surge of adrenaline, feeling an emotion of panic fueled by anger as he saw Lieutenant Hawkeye kneeling on the ground, sitting eerily still, with a gun to her head. Her head was locked by an arm around her neck and her face was shielded by the hair that had come loose from it’s once neat bun. 

Havoc and Furey gripped their guns tightly, aimed and ready to fire at her captor at any moment. They were surprised to see that their target wasn’t General Boeller, but rather the suspicious man in the stolen uniform. He was nervous, the gun he was holding against Riza’s temple was shaking and sweat glistened on his forehead. 

“D-Don’t come any closer!” Norris said, his voice cracking. “Drop your weapons!”

Roy lowered his hand slightly, still keeping a snap primed and ready. He knew that could easily overtake her new captor, but he would still have to be careful as long as the gun still pointed at Riza. He knew he couldn’t afford to be reckless. 

“Who are you?” Mustang asked sternly. 

Norris did not answer, flicking his gaze over to the right, looking anxiously for an answer. This alerted Mustang that someone else was hiding amongst the shadows. His subordinates seemed to pick up on that too. He went to move the direction of his gloved hand towards the right, only to be stopped by a familiar, unsettling voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Boeller said, his tone even and calm. He stepped out of the darkness just enough to be seen in the low light. He held a strange object in his hand. “If you were to let loose your flames at me, it would surely spark this bomb, wouldn’t it? It would take all of us out, including your dear, sweet lieutenant. We surely don’t want that…”

Mustang seethed, glaring at Boeller and regrettably refrained from sending a wave of flames towards him. “I’ll be taking my Lieutenant back.”

“Is that an order?” Boeller smiled. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be calling the shots here, General. Besides...I’m afraid I’m not quite through with Hawkeye just yet.”

“I’m not playing any more of your games.”

General Boeller grunted in annoyance. “This has never been a game to me. My life’s research is nearly complete. I have let others stand in my way before, but not this time. I won’t let anyone stand in my way this time, not when I have such a perfect example.”

Mustang was slightly taken aback, concentrating on keeping his alchemy hand steady. “What do you mean by that?”

Boeller’s face slowly crept into a smile. “Ah, yes. Your lieutenant here is quite the soldier and one who is destined for much more than what you were using her for. I intend to create a super soldier, and starting off with a such a talented base really makes a difference-”

“She would never follow your command.”

“She already has.” 

Mustang’s eyes widened. “You’re lying.”

“You’d be surprised at what the human mind is capable of when put under such stress.” Boeller chuckled. “It boils down to a survival instinct. When you take a soldier and you overwork them, starve them, deprive them of sleep, beat them and kill comrades that disobey right in front of them...you start to see them change their minds.”

Havoc interjected. “But Hawkeye is far too smart to fall for your tricks and tactics.”

“It is true that she was incredibly hard to crack, but everyone has their breaking point. Shall I recall every terrible thing I’ve done to your Lieutenant?”

“Shut your mouth.” Mustang snarled. 

“Riza Hawkeye was by far the most disobedient, insolent soldier at Fort Windsor. That little bitch was always rebelling against me, from the first moment she arrived. I gave her every opportunity to join me, but she was always plotting ways to dismantle my system...which of course did get her into trouble.” Boeller looked over at Riza, still motionless in Norris’ grasp then back to Mustang. “I think she held on so tightly to the idea that she was going to escape and run back into the safety of your arms.” The General’s smile spread. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy watching that kind of hope slowly leave her eyes with each passing day-”

“I said shut your mouth!” General Mustang yelled, his thumb twitching in anticipation. Havoc and Furey gripped their guns tighter as the tension in the room grew. “We are done with this. Release my Lieutenant right now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, you see I’ll be taking her with me.”

Roy growled. “Don’t think for one second that I’m going to let you take her again!”

Boeller sighed. “This is taking up too much precious time. I guess I’ll have to prove myself right here and now.”

Furey gulped. “What do you mean?”

The air in the room was stifling as General Boeller just looked at them for a moment, then turned to Riza. “Norris, give her the gun.”

A few minutes before  
Riza awoke to darkness surrounding her, a plane of existence where there was nothing but her and the void. ‘I’ve been here before...many times…’ She thought to herself. A small pain turned her attention to the drips of blood coming from her arm. 

“0398.” A stern voice called out to her, sending a chill down her spine. She spun around to see General Boeller standing over a bed where she could see herself strapped down to it as he spoke to her. A mousy looking man in an unfitting uniform paced around them nervously, wringing his hands with every step. 

Riza was trying to focus but it was difficult with the projector rattling off a pattern of images above where her body lay, and all she could do was stand there and watch Boeller whisper the code over and over again. 

Her chest felt tight and she tried to scream, but no sound escaped her. She smacked her forehead with her hands, desperately trying anything to wake up from this nightmare. Hawkeye knew she would have to regain control, but nothing seemed to work. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to hit herself, how badly she wanted to survive this as the void began to swallow her.

A few minutes later  
“Norris, give her the gun.”

“W-What?” The mousy man’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t be serious?”

Boeller shouted at him. “Damnit, I said give 0398 the goddamn gun!”

Norris hesitated before slowly releasing Riza from the headlock, her hand slowly raised with a palm up, gripping the gun as it was handed to her. Roy’s eyes widened in horror as she lifted her dull gaze, pupils dilated and staring as if lookingright through him.

“Go ahead, 0398. Position to aim.”

Havoc and Furey tensed as Hawkeye slowly positioned the gun towards their direction, but she refrained from firing just yet. 

“Hawkeye…” Roy said softly, his gaze saddened as he lowered his gloved hands. His subordinates kept their firearms at the ready but there was a serious doubt settling on all three of the men, knowing none of them would be able to pull the trigger on their friend. 

Boeller cleared his throat. “Lower your weapons or 0398 will shoot. Lower them NOW!”

Mustang settled his arms at his sides and signaled to his men to stand down, causing Havoc to look at him in panic. “Sir, I-”

“It’s alright, Jean. Lower your weapon, you too Furey.”

Kain Furey slowly nodded, trusting his superior and put his gun down. The three of them watched Riza, who was still completely out of touch. 

“Now, 0398.” Boeller commanded. “Shoot General Mustang.”

Riza’s grip on the gun tightened as it centered on Roy, but still she did not shoot. 

Havoc turned to his superior. “Sir?”

“Don’t do anything.” He ordered. 

General Boeller groaned in annoyance. “0398. I said SHOOT him!”

“Sir-” Furey’s voice wavered, looking between Mustang and Hawkeye worriedly.

“It’s fine, don’t do anything.” General Mustang watched her carefully, trying to find any assurance that his Lieutenant, his Riza, was still somewhere behind those eyes of hers. “Riza..”

In the void Riza wrapped her arms around herself as she cried in silence. The darkness seemed to never end, enveloping her completely. She was about ready to close her eyes, ready to succumb to the black, until a voice called her name-her real name. His voice was warm and familiar, but dripped with heartache. 

“Riza…” It was Roy’s voice.

Hawkeye looked up and saw herself once more, but this time her body was kneeling on an unfamiliar ground, holding a gun that was pointed forwards. Roy stood across from her body, his eyes were sad and his gloved hands were resting at his sides. 

“SHOOT HIM.” Boeller’s voice echoed across the darkness, ringing too loudly in her ears. 

Riza tried to understand what was happening. ‘Boeller...wants me to shoot...no…’ The realization finally hit her and she gathered her strength. She moved quickly to kneel in front of her body, wedging herself in between her brainwashed form and her unfortunate target. 

“Please…” Riza pleaded with herself, cupping the face of herself in front of her and staring deep into the dull, dilated eyes. “Please...wake up! Wake up!”

“0398! I gave you an order!” Boeller’s voice was growing angrier, and yet seemed farther away. 

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” She cried, shutting her eyes tightly and shaking the self in front of her. 

When Riza opened her eyes, her vision was slightly blurry and she was no longer in the void, but it’s shadows still remained in her peripherals. Her hands clutched something cold, pointed forward in a familiar way. Roy’s figure grew clearer as she focused on her target, but now she could feel the weight of the gun, the cold cement against her knees, and the ache of her body.

“0398! SHOOT HIM!”

Her eyes locked with Mustang’s before flickering her gaze to the side where Boeller’s voice had come from, then back to Mustang again.

Roy narrowed his gaze slightly, noticing a shift in Hawkeye’s eyes as he picked up on her signal. He let out a heavy breath. “It’s okay, Lieutenant…” Their eyes locked once more and he nodded his head. “It’s okay, Lieutenant...you do what you have to do.”

He ignored the looks of terror from his men, focusing his gaze solely on her. Riza’s eyes widened slightly before welling up with tears. She shut her eyes and quickly swung the gun to the right, pulling the trigger three times before letting the gun clatter to the ground.

General Boeller screamed in pain as the bullets shot through both of his legs, sending him collapsing to the ground. Norris managed to catch the bomb as it escaped the General’s hands, ducking into the shadows despite the bullets from Havoc and Furey’s guns raining on him. 

Mustang wasted no time in rushing over to his Lieutenant, nearly sliding on his knees towards her. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He cupped her face gently with one hand and looked her over to assess any new wounds or injuries and aside from still being slightly out of it, she was okay. 

Boeller’s groans of pain pulled both Mustang and Hawkeye’s attention back to the situation. The General lay writhing on the ground, holding pressure on the bullet wounds on both of his legs. Havoc was quickly restraining him while Furey patted him down for any hidden weapons before putting pressure on the injuries.  
“Sir. The other one escaped, should we be going after him?” Havoc asked, looking to the shadows, barely able to make out a door that Norris must have used to escape.

“C-Coward…” Boeller muttered angrily. “R-Running off and leaving me…”

Havoc tightened his hold on General Boeller. “Oh just shut up already.” 

“What do we do, Sir?” Furey looked at Mustang inquisitively. 

Mustang slowly helped Riza to stand, putting an arm around her waist to give her support. “We’ll find him, but right now we have more important things to take care of.” His dark eyes centered on Boeller’s face of anguish. “Boeller’s prison sentence comes first.”

“B-But...I need to see a doctor!” Boeller tried to wriggle his way out of Lieutenant Havoc’s arms but his strength was fading and his legs were causing him excruciating pain. 

“I’ve heard they have doctors in prison.” General Mustang quipped. He turned his attention back to Riza, seeing her eyes were still strange but were slowly returning to normal. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

Hawkeye nodded slowly. “I’m...still...kind of light headed.” She counted herself lucky that the drugs were still in her system, her old wounds must be aching without her realizing. 

Roy turned to his two subordinates. “I’m going to need you two to carry Boeller out of this basement so that we can turn him in. I’ll have Breda and Falman follow up on Norris.”

“Yes, Sir!” They replied. 

Furey went about wrapping Boeller’s injured legs before moving into position with Havoc to carry the man out. The General glared at Furey, narrowing his eyes before kicking his leg upwards to hit the Sergeant in the chest and knocking him backwards. This caused enough distraction that Boeller was able to elbow Havoc in the jaw, sending him backwards and he took his chance. Rising up on his bleeding legs, General Boeller lunged towards Mustang and Hawkeye.

A single snap was heard, flames lit up the dim room and the skin around the side of General Boeller’s face sizzled and he screamed. The flesh was red and dripping with burnt tissue and blood, aromating the room with smoke. 

Mustang’s face remained composed as he clutched Hawkeye to his chest protectively, one arm still stretched out and ready to snap again should he need to. The burn was not lethal, but it would leave some permanent damage. He stood at the ready while Havoc and Furey regained their holds on the crying General.

“Geez, did he really think that was gonna work?” Havoc said, ignoring the ache in his jaw.  
Roy did not reply, instead turning his gloved hand toward the door that he and his subordinates had entered through minutes ago. The sound of footsteps brought their attention to whoever was entering through that door, knowing the possibility of it being more underlings. 

General Armstrong walked through the doorway confidently, noting Mustang’s gloved hand. “How long are you going to point that at me, Mustang?” She clicked in distaste. “Especially when I brought you a gift.” She gestured to Major Armstrong who was single handedly holding a trembling Norris in place, while Major Miles held the bomb safely in his possession. 

“You caught him!” Furey smiled as he exclaimed the news.

“Correct. He’ll be dealt with swiftly, as well as General Boeller.”

Mustang’s eyes were wide as he lowered his gloved hand. “How did you even find us?”

Armstrong grinned. “We were wandering about the alleyways when we just so happened to run into this suspicious man carrying a bomb. It didn’t take long to subdue him and make him talk.”

Norris gulped and looked down shamefully, his hands cuffed behind him. He looked at Boeller still squirming in pain before quickly avoiding a glance at anyone in the room. 

“General Mustang, why don’t you take Hawkeye and leave this to us for now. I’ll make sure Boeller gets to where he deserves to go.” 

Roy thought for a moment, glancing down at Hawkeye who was clutching on tightly to his jacket for balance. “I think that would be for the best. Thank you, General Armstrong.”

“Hmph, don’t thank me.” She narrowed her icy blue eyes at General Boeller. “It’s my pleasure to show this man what a true General of the North looks like.”

Thirty minutes later  
It was nearly nightfall as they approached the steps to the courthouse, the dusk just settling over the skyline of Central. Riza had insisted on walking back to the courthouse, despite Mustang’s concerns. He sighed at her stubbornness but did not fight her on it, he knew she wanted to make sure the others at the courthouse were alright. 

Rebecca stood on the steps, anxiously patting the dust off her uniform. Her eyes locked on two figures coming up the main walk to the stone steps where she stood. She sprinted towards them exuberantly.

“Riza!” She embraced her friend gently, smiling wider with every second. “I’m so glad you’re okay! You really had me worried.” Rebecca pulled away and gave her a scolding look. “You of all people know better than to just run after the enemy like that.”

“S-Sorry…” Riza said with a slight quiver in her voice. “I’m not really sure what came over me, I just...couldn’t let him get away.”

“Hey! Hawkeye!” Breda called out, running down the steps towards the group with Falman right behind him. 

“Glad to see that everyone is safe.” Falman sighed in relief. 

Mustang quickly briefed them on what had occurred in the basement, while Falman filled them in on the damage to the courthouse. 

Breda turned to Riza. “I think you’ll be happy to hear that we got an update from the hospital. Apparently, Patrick Dawes is doing much better after the effects wore off, his wife is with him now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Hawkeye said, mustering up a small smile that faded fast. “Is he going to be facing any trouble with the law?”

“As far as I know, he won’t unless you decide to press any charges. You were the target after all.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Then he’s got nothin’ to worry about.” Breda gave her a kind nudge. 

Havoc and Furey appeared from inside the doorway of the courthouse, quickly trotting down the stairs to their comrades, slightly out of breath.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. “How did you two get back so quickly?”

“We had the guards that were with General Armstrong put General Boeller on a stretcher. We then loaded him into a military vehicle.” Havoc answered promptly.

“And you brought him back here?” 

Furey rubbed the sore spot on his chest where he had been kicked. “General Armstrong said that since his injuries were not life threatening, so he should face the end of his sentencing in the courtroom.”

“Well, in what’s left of the courtroom anyways.” Havoc added. “He’s in there right now.”

They remained silent for a moment. Riza looked up at the courthouse building, the first stars of the evening were twinkling above it and she began to feel a bit stronger.

“I am going in.”

Roy snapped a look at her as she was still holding onto him for balance. “You can’t be serious…”

“I don’t know, Riza...maybe we shouldn’t-” Rebecca began, only to stop as she fell under the intensity of Hawkeye’s gaze. 

“I have to see it. I have to see him get sent to prison this time.”

She looked at all the nervous faces of her friends, understanding their concern, but she knew she had to see him go down. Completely this time.

“Alright.” Roy agreed, giving her waist a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “We all go in, together.”

They made their way up the steps and into the main room where they once again met General Armstrong standing outside the open doors to the courtroom. She looked at Hawkeye and just stepped aside to let her and Mustang pass, joining the cluster of comrades behind them as they walked down the aisle of the room.

Judge Mattais sat at his raised podium, hair and gown still disheveled from the explosion. Boeller lay on a stretcher in front of him, his lawyer as well as Strode on either side of him. Guards posed themselves at all exit points and in various places surrounding the stretcher. There was nowhere for him to run this time.

“General Aeron Boeller. For the crimes you have committed at Fort Windsor, you shall serve your sentence of life in Prison. I grant you, under the jurisdiction of my destroyed courtroom and the law of Amestris, no possibility of parole or bail. You will hereby be set up for an additional trial for the crimes you have committed here today in a separate hearing, in which you may receive additional sentencing.” Judge Mattais struck his gavel against the wood of his podium, ending the trial. 

Two guards approached the stretcher and wheeled it around, readying it to leave the courtroom. They got a full view of Boeller, now burned on his face and unable to walk for the time being. Riza felt her chest tighten. ‘Why don’t I feel as relieved as I thought I would?” She thought to herself.

Boeller looked over at Hawkeye, surrounded by her friends and comrades. His mouth clenched and he balled his fists before slowly releasing his boiling anger. He slowly smiled at her, sending that all too familiar chill down her spine. 

“Well, I guess you won...for now, 0398.” He chuckled, making her feel the resurgence of anger inside her stomach. “I have to wonder what went wrong...I guess I just didn’t try to break you hard enough.”

Riza stepped forward, now just a foot away from the stretcher. “No.” She said firmly. “You made the mistake of underestimating me. You underestimated my abilities, my loyalty to my friends, and how fear can’t be used to control me. I beat you, and you’ll have to live with that.”

Boeller laughed. “You may have beaten me here in this courtroom, but that doesn’t mean you’re free of me.” His eyes gleamed with hatred as his grin grew wider across his face. “Because I’m still in there, 0398, inside your head, waiting to strike-” General Boeller fake lunged toward Hawkeye, sending her stepping backwards frantically. Mustang caught her from falling, holding onto her with care as she stared wide-eyed in terror at Boeller. 

“See? You’ll always be scared of me…” He said as he settled back into his stretcher, the guards standing more alert than they were before. “Fear still works...and that’s all I’ll need to know to keep me going.”

Mustang and his men glared at Boeller as he was carried out of the courtroom and into a military transport vehicle to spend the rest of his days in an Amestrian prison, never to see the outside world again.

They all stayed in the courtroom as General Boeller was removed, remaining silent until it was just them. Rebecca looked at Riza, whose eyes were no longer dilated but her face remained unreadable. 

“Riza?” She finally managed to ask. “Are you...okay?”

Hawkeye slowly wrapped her arms around herself with one hand clutching her chest. Tears spilled from her eyes and as she felt the first real breath of release in months, Riza broke into sobs. Roy slowly knelt down with her as she sank to her knees, putting his arm around her as they settled on the floor. Rebecca copied and sat beside her crying friend, holding her tightly and rubbing her back tenderly. Havoc, Furey, Falman and Breda followed suit and sat near Hawkeye, with just enough space to avoid crowding her, but close enough that she could sense they were there. General Armstrong even lowered herself to sit on the floor of the courtroom with them as Riza released the hurt, the pain, the memories of everything that had happened since she had arrived at Fort Windsor. 

Her friends stayed close and gave her as much time as she needed, letting Hawkeye have this moment of bittersweet victory.


	33. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! And I finished this fic on the start of the New Year! What a year it's been, huh? I've had the idea for this fic for about three years now but it wasn't until quarantine hit that I actually decided to sit down, start writing, and actually post it. To everyone reading, whether you've been here a long time or you've just found it and read all the way through, thank you for sticking with me until the end. I hope this chapter gives you the sigh of relief you deserve after all that I put these poor characters through. Thank you all for reading, giving kudos and commenting, you've made my 2020 better by enjoying this fic. (Also! Be sure to keep an eye out for my new royai fic, the first chapter is in the works! It's called "The Pull of the Tides" and it's a Pirate!AU, so if you like royai and you like pirates-that fic will be for you! lol)

Chapter 33: Light

A few days had passed since the trial, a memory that Riza Hawkeye was currently trying to put out of her mind as her boots clicked along the familiar hallways of Central Command. Today the uniform felt heavy and her wounds, now almost healed, still ached with every stride. She kept a calm, composed face as she stepped in time one pace behind her General and despite the familiarity, something felt off. Roy Mustang’s demeanor had changed in the last day, his posture had grown tense and he spoke less, as if his mind was preoccupied elsewhere. Perhaps he was tired after all that had happened the last few months, but Riza Hawkeye knew better than that-there was something on his mind. Something he wasn’t telling her. 

Riza narrowed her eyes at the back of his head, it wasn’t like him to keep secrets from her. The pair rounded a corner, heading towards Fuhrer Grumman’s office and they greeted the officers posted at the doors. Inside his office, Grumman polished a porcelain figure that he had collected on one of his many trips, his brow furrowed slightly as he thought about the right words to say. This was not going to be an easy conversation.

Grumman lifted his head as Roy Mustang entered, with Lieutenant Hawkeye following close behind. They stood at attention in front of his desk before easing at his command.

“Good morning General, and to you Lieutenant.” He gestured to the two chairs facing his desk. “Why don’t you two have a seat and we can get right down to business.”

Riza took her seat, crossing her leg politely and smoothed out a wrinkle in her military uniform. She glanced at Roy, sensing that he was avoiding her gaze entirely. An uneasy feeling was settling in her stomach. ‘What was this meeting about anyways?’ She wondered. ‘It must be about getting me back to work, but then why is Roy acting so strange?’ Riza turned back to her grandfather, who was wearing the same apprehensive look as Roy. 

Fuhrer Grumman cleared his throat. “How are you feeling, Lieutenant?”

“I’m feeling fine, thank you.” Riza replied evenly. 

“And your wounds, how is the healing progressing?”

“Doing well, I had a checkup with a doctor yesterday. No infections or complications to worry about.”

“That’s...good news. I’m glad to hear that your recovery is beginning.” Grumman offered her a small smile, but the tone of his voice worried her.

“Yes, Sir. I am thankful for the opportunity to return to work.” Riza said confidently, only to be met with a silent room.

Roy shifted uncomfortably in his chair until finally Grumman took a deep breath, lifting his gaze to her. “I’m afraid that’s what we are here to discuss.”

Hawkeye swallowed hard, she had to know this conversation was a possibility, but had hoped that with the chaos of everything that had happened, it would have been forgotten.

“Fuhrer, Sir...I can explain. I know that what I did to get to Fort Windsor was wrong.” Her voice stayed even despite the rise in nerves. She folded her hands to stop them from shaking as she spoke. “I understand it is unlawful to forge signatures, especially the signature of one’s Superior. I understand that it was foolish and shameful, and I take full responsibility for my actions.”

Roy watched her, his eyes saddened. Grumman slowly shook his head. “That’s not what needs to be discussed. We’ve taken care of that situation seeing as how General Mustang is not pursuing to press any charges so as far as anyone knows, he is the one that signed off on your transfer papers afterall.”

“So there shouldn’t be any legal consequences, doesn’t that mean I can be released back to work?” She asked.

“Well, it’s not a legal matter necessarily.” Grumman sighed. “But we are worried…”

“Worried about what?” Riza frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Grumman glanced at Mustang before turning his gaze to his hands folded on his desk. “We are worried that it has taken quite a toll on you. You’ve been through many harrowing experiences, and this is just one more trauma added on. I don’t feel right about sending you back to work, back to the possibility of you having to fight so soon. We think it might enhance some progress to your recovery if you....took some time off.”

“Take some time off?” Riza blinked a few times in bewilderment. “You want me to take time off? But...but...I have to return to my duties, I have important things to do, people to protect.”

Roy closed his eyes, feeling a tug at his heart. ‘All that she’s been through and she’s still thinking of the burdens I’ve put on her…’ He thought to himself.

“I understand that your duties are important.” Grumman continued. “But this is a very serious matter. The atrocities that were committed at the hands of Aeron Boeller have inflicted major injuries, both physical and mental. I don’t want to see you placed in dangerous situations in your condition-”

“My condition?” It was unlike Riza to snap back, especially not at the Fuhrer of Amestris. But the words just seemed to spill out. 

Grumman sighed again. “I’m sorry, but we just don’t see fit to put you back to work after what you’ve just been through.”

“But I returned so soon after The Promised Day! You know that I am more than capable of pulling myself together, I can handle it!”

“The Promised Day was different. The incident at Fort Windsor was...more personal. Besides, you recovered from your throat injury more quickly due to the alkhestry used by the Xingese Princess. Your injuries from Fort Windsor are still healing, they need time. You need time.” Grumman’s tone was growing more firm, trying to stand his ground on the issue, but the look of disappointment slowly settling on his granddaughter's face was making it all the more difficult.

“But...But...I need to come back. General Mustang needs me to watch his back, I can’t imagine how much paperwork has piled up and there’s still things in Ishval that need work. General Mustang needs me for these things.” Riza frantically looked at Roy, a soft pleading in her voice. “Don’t you?”

Mustang did not look at her, instead his dark eyes cast downward at the floor and his hand rested over his mouth in a thinking gesture. His silence was her answer. 

Riza’s eyes widened as the realization clicked in her brain. It was why Roy had been acting strange the last day or so, and she had wondered who else Grumman was referring to when he used the term ‘we’. It was not just her grandfather, but it was Roy too. 

Roy sighed, speaking just barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry…” It was not what she wanted to hear him say next and he knew that, but he didn’t know what else to respond with. 

“So you knew about this?”

He did not answer.

“So you knew this whole time? You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

Still, he refrained from speaking.

Riza rested her back against the chair, almost sinking into it with a feeling as though she had just been shattered into pieces. She crossed her arms, staring at the ground. “So I’m useless to you…”

Roy snapped his head towards her, a look of pain and shock etched on his features. “I didn’t say that.” His voice was gruffer than usual, but Riza could hear the heartache in it. “I would never say that.”

Her face flushed in embarrassment, and she could feel the sting of tears threatening to take over but she swallowed it back. ‘Look at me, acting like a spoiled child…’ Shame rose in her chest as she thought to herself.

The two men watched Riza retreat with her emotions, knowing her outburst and words were coming from a place of pain. Like how an animal strikes when it has been hurt. And while they didn’t want to hurt her, they knew it was necessary in order to get her what she needed.

Mustang slid his chair to be closer to her, finally facing her completely. “Of course I need you. I’ll always need you, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you, and what you need. It’s time that I put your needs first.” He paused to watch Riza’s reaction, but when she looked at him with an unreadable expression he continued, softening his voice. “This is only temporary.”

Grumman sighed. “I promise we will return to this meeting in a few months, after you’ve recovered fully. Then we will reinstate you back with your team.” He tried to offer a small smile once more. “Consider it a mandatory vacation.”

The room was silent again, the three of them giving each other the space to process the conversation. Riza finally asked, her voice wavering slightly. 

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Grumman waited a beat or two before tilting his head. “Rest well. Catch up on some reading, walk your dog, spend time with Lieutenant Catalina, work on healing yourself so that when you return-you are the best version of yourself.”

Roy rested a hand on her forearm. “The men will want to stay close, we can all meet at my Aunt’s bar for drinks, I’m sure Havoc will still go to the shooting range with you. Furey will always want to spoil Hayate with treats, Falman will still need someone to talk with about the latest novel, and Breda still wants to show you how to cook his famous steaks. I will be there to make sure you keep up to date on everything and to always keep you company. You’re still a part of this team, Hawkeye. And when we said that we would be with you every step of the way, we meant it.”

Riza closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting a single tear glide down her cheek. She nodded. “Okay.”

A few minutes passed and Fuhrer Grumman dismissed the two. General Mustang stood and Riza looked up at him.

“Every step?” She asked.

“Every step.” He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to support her as she had always done for him.

Approximately six months later  
Riza took a sip of her tea, letting the sweet herbal liquid rest on her tongue. Her eyes scanned the covered patio of the café, trying to see through the vines and flowers that lined the trellis separating the patio from the busy street. She smiled, knowing he would appear right on time as usual, after all, he never missed their appointments. Riza reached down to pet Hayate’s head and give him a scratch behind his ear before reaching for the letter in her purse. Her fingers diligently opened the crisp envelope and released the letter from it’s bindings. 

‘Dear First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye,

I apologize for the late response on your last letter, my family and I went away to the country for a couple of weeks. It was nice there, warm and lots of rolling hills to get lost in. You were right about the East, the sunrises are beautiful. My wife and I were relieved to get away from it all, especially as the children are about to return to school. I can’t believe that nearly six months have passed since the trial, I recollected the passing of time when I read about the news of his death in the paper. I’m sure you’ve read about it as well. How are you feeling? I know I am feeling conflicted. On one hand I am relieved that we are truly free from him on this earth, but another part of me is still kept awake some nights, especially when it’s cold outside. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about it, and the men we fought alongside. I also read that they will be erecting a monument to the fallen soldiers of Fort Windsor, it seems nice to do and yet it still feels like it’s not enough. Is it strange to feel that way? In any case, I will most likely take a visit to Central when it is built, I hope to see you. Also, tell General Roy Mustang that I say congratulations on his campaign for Fuhrer. With Fuhrer Grumman looking to retire in the next year, I’d say General Mustang has a good shot at winning the election. Tell him that he has my vote. I hope you are doing well, best wishes!

Patrick Dawes’

Riza smiled at the letter, taking it all in. Patrick raised an interesting point about General Boeller’s death inside prison, and how it had made her feel. During the last six months of her recovery, she had been adjusting to not working as best she could. She had regular doctor and physical therapy appointments, she spoke to a therapist recommended by Fuhrer Grumman, and she had learned to better cope with the darkness in her life. Just last month was when she had read the news in the paper that “...former General Aeron Boeller was pronounced dead by prison guards due to an ‘incident’ in the prison yard…” What was even more shocking was the way she had fallen apart at the news, and she had laid in bed for nearly a whole day.

Roy had been there though, just as he had promised. Rebecca too, who came from the East to visit her almost every weekend. Team Mustang and Grumman had all been sure to make the time to see her as well. And when she was alone, Riza still had Hayate. 

Hawkeye’s perceptive eyes caught a glimpse of her lunch date passing by the trellis toward the entrance. She smoothed her skirt and smiled as he entered the patio. Roy spotted her in their usual spot, that boyish grin plastered on his face. 

“Is this seat taken?” He asked, holding something behind his back.

“It is now.” 

Roy sat down and pulled out a small bouquet of simple, little wild flowers that had been tied up neatly with brown paper. Riza was surprised when the bouquet was handed to her, but she smiled nonetheless. 

“You got me flowers?” 

“Of course, you’ll need some for the vase I bought you.” 

“That is true.” She looked down at them, excited to finally put the vase to use. “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

“Anytime.” Roy responded before turning his attention to Hayate who had been patiently pawing at his leg for pets. He leaned down to scratch behind the pup’s ear, earning a tail wag and happy yip. Roy turned his attention back to Riza. “So, tell me what’s new. I want to hear everything.”

“Just the usual, the last few days have been fairly uneventful-well, Hayate did give me a run when he saw some geese in the park.” The two of them laughed, thinking about the pup’s usually well behaved mannerisms going out the window as soon as geese were involved.  
“Other than that I’ve been reading through some books that Falman recommended. Oh, and I’ll need you to take these to the men at the office.” Riza reached down and grabbed a small basket of muffins wrapped in a checkered cloth. 

Roy grinned as he took the basket from her. “The men are going to be excited to eat more baked goods, they really enjoyed the apple pie you baked last time.”

“Winry was kind enough to lend me some more recipes, I still have to perfect that pie crust though.”

“The men thought it was delicious anyways, trust me, it was gone in minutes.” Mustang chuckled, recalling how he almost didn’t even get a slice. “I’m afraid if you keep bringing us baked goods, all of us at the office are going to have to go up a belt size.”

Riza took a sip of tea. “Don’t worry, the men are staying in shape.”

“So I heard.” Roy smirked. “Last report from when they met you at the track, you really gave them a run for their money.”

She laughed, setting down her teacup. “I enjoy my weekly races with them on the training track, I get faster every time. I can still outrun Breda and Falman and I’m catching up to Furey, we were neck and neck last time.”

“It’s Havoc you’ll have to beat, even with his injury from two years ago, he’s still the fastest one.”

“Not for long.” Hawkeye said confidently, sending Mustang into a snicker. “You don’t play around, that’s for sure.”

The two carried on light-hearted conversation, ordering their food and refilling on cups of tea.

“So…” Roy began a new topic of conversation, setting down his fork. “...I have some good news.”

Riza finished a bite of her sandwich before looking back at him. “Is it something to do with the election?” 

“It does. I received a phone call from General Armstrong this morning.”

“And?” The anticipation was making Riza slightly anxious.

Roy leaned in a bit closer, talking in a lower tone so as to not be overheard. “She has, ever so surprisingly, given her full support of our campaign.”

“That’s great news!”

“What’s even better, is that she is willing to make a public statement of endorsement.”

Riza nearly spit out a sip of tea at the realization, responding in a disbelieving tone. “Really? General Armstrong is going to make a public endorsement for the campaign?”

Roy put his hands up defensively, letting out a chuckle. “I know, I know, I was just as surprised as you are! But with her endorsement comes strong support from Briggs men and northerners alike.”

“That’s a huge win.” Riza smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, though I have a feeling it has less to do with me and more to do with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh?” She inquired. “You think so?”

“I know so. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Roy looked at her with a sincere expression that made her feel warm inside. It was one of his gazes that made her shiver, in a good way.

“I’ll do everything I can to ensure a victory for you. We still have a lot of work to do.”

“You’re right. In fact, I’ll be needing you by my side more than ever.” Roy began. “You’re intelligent, strong, and a great role model for this country. You are willing to put in the fight for this nation’s humanity but most importantly, you keep me in check. You ground me when I fly too recklessly and push me when I take too timid of an approach.”

Riza looked at him, feeling the energy between them shift. She could sense the little game that they’ve been playing the last month or so was about to begin a round, and she was ready to play. 

“In fact…” Roy continued. “This country could really use someone like that as their First Lady.”

“Oh?” She replied, holding her teacup with both hands. That was the most forward he had been on the subject so far. “So you’ve finally decided to take Hughes’ advice, huh?”

“He was right about a lot of things.” Roy eyed her playfully. “And after all he’s done for us, I’d say we should put a little faith in his wisdom.”

Riza almost snorted with laughter, putting her hand up to her mouth to hide the widening smile. She noticed his confident expression growing, the game was afoot and he was winning. She couldn’t let that happen, not just yet. 

“So in other words…” She began. “...the wisdom of finding yourself a wife.”

“Exactly.”

“Well you’d better go find one.” 

“I already have.” 

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Who?”

“Someone special. Someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“Havoc?”

“No.” Roy laughed, as they got closer to the edge of this conversation he was ready to finally best her at their game. 

“Details of this person?” Riza asked, stirring a sugar cube into her cup aimlessly. 

“Well, imagine this intelligent young woman, she’s reserved but once you know her she is the kind of friend and comrade you’d want to have in your life. She’s selfless, caring and devoted to her friends and fellow men.” Roy’s smirk grew as he leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly, looking at her for a long while. “Not to mention she’s beautiful, with this blonde hair that shines in the sun and these warm brown eyes that I love to get lost in.” He leaned forward on the last part, propping his posture with his elbows on the table. 

She couldn’t hide the small blush that spread on her cheeks, his gaze was melting her from the inside out. ‘He’s good…’ She admitted to herself, but what he didn’t know was that she still had one last trick up her sleeve.

“This person sounds familiar…”

“You know her well.”

“Is it me?” She asked boldly, picking up the tea cup once more.

Roy couldn’t contain his grin. “You really are the most perceptive person I know.” He had won, he had finally gotten her. “So, what do you think?”

“About marrying you?” She suddenly matched his grin, ready to strike a final blow. 

“Yes. What do you think about marrying me?” He waited for her answer, suddenly anxious but exhilarated all the same.

“I’m sorry General Mustang…” She looked him dead in the eyes. “...I’m afraid I only accept marriage proposals from democratically elected officials…” Riza brought the tea cup to her lips and took a sip casually.

Mustang’s mouth dropped in shock. She had bested him again and despite a slight twinge of disappointment, he burst into laughter. Holding his stomach, he looked back at her. 

“Damn, Hawkeye...you got me again.” As his laughter subsided he continued. “Well I can’t say that I blame you, but I must warn you. I already had plenty of motivation to win this election, but consider it a challenge. I will win, and you will marry me.”

Riza smiled, this time softly. “Challenge accepted, Sir.”

After their meal was paid for, the two stood and Roy grabbed her coat ready to slide it onto her shoulders.

“Are we still on for dinner this evening?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll see you at my place?”

“I’ll be there.” Roy noticed the nearly empty patio and placed a kiss on her cheek before the two walked to the entrance of the trellis patio and onto the street.

The two waved goodbye and Mustang watched her and Hayate turn the corner and disappear. Havoc, who had been leaning against the wall of the patio trellis, let out a long puff of smoke from his cigarette. 

“You almost had her that time, Chief.”

Mustang sighed. “Like I said, I can’t really blame her. Not after all she’s been through.” He turned to his subordinate with a smirk returning. “But still...all in due time.”

“Well, I guess you better win that election then.” Havoc snuffed out the cigarette on his boot before walking with Mustang back to Central Command, a single pace behind him, just as Hawkeye had always done. 

“I will.” Mustang retorted, looking up at the blue sky, his head filling with its usual thoughts. Ones about elections, political madness, and a strong, enduring woman with blonde hair and warm eyes that really truly saw him like no one else did. He thought about a time when she had been out there in the snow, too damn stubborn to die. Riza, herself, was like a snowfall. Gentle flurries, yet beneath is a storm waiting to strike. ‘Yeah, a snowfall…’ Roy thought to himself with a smile.

Snowfall.

The End.


End file.
